#like we know. hes literally in the ring with you.

[midnite-c6]

thanos and namgyu putting your bed in between theirs 🙏🙏 even if you chose to stop playing the game they are still making you go to the circle side to sleep and perhaps that night they could change your mind about the next time you vote..

this trope is js the best fr in another life im an X picker and these two teach me to b obedient to their requests💔

thanos & nam-gyu imagine !!!!!! pt. 3 💓

warnings: 18+ DARK content, noncon, sa

pleassee read at ur own risk

soooo, they're literally like dogs tryna chase you, even to as forcing you to be next to them : "shitheads, no matter what, i'm still gonna pick X. i'm not gonna be easily convinced." you tell them firsthand, and they both laugh to themselves

"she obviously won't listen to us, you think her stupid brain could handle it?" nam-gyu complained to thanos, annoyed by how thanos was so persistent in making you switch sides. you scoff since he wasn't so quiet in saying that either, "hey, fuck you, you think I'M stupid enough to play again? don't wanna die than-" "shut up, cunt." nam-gyu cuts you off, placing his hand on your mouth to shut you up, the cold metal of his ring grazing your warm skin. your instant reaction was to bite him, "agh- i'll fucking kill y-" "calm down! everybody chiiiillllll." thanos, like a saviour, stopped nam-gyu from hitting you. "i'm sure we can all have a fair agreement, everybody gets what they want. right, pretty?" thanos turned to look at you, pushing his face awfully close to yours. "and what i want iss.... you." he stares directly into your eyes, that creepy smirk with eyes you KNOW isn't sober at all.

"you could scream and cry all you want, but you know noone in this room would be bothered to help you, girl." nam-gyu whispers into your ears whilst thanos carries you to the bathroom..

nsfw beloww ＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／ ->

you were now naked, your sweaty body laying on the filthy bathroom floor, noone could hear your cries for help when nam-gyu's cock forces you to deepthroat him, his hand pulling on your hair to further be balls-deep inside your mouth.. you'd choke on him, saliva dripping all over his dick and your chin. you couldn't scream... and you couldn't fight it either, if it weren't for thanos' stupid, rough hands wrapped around your arms, pinning them to the ground, your legs placed on his shoulders as his tongue laps up and down your folds.. you try your best to wiggle away (even tho its impossible) and thanos notices, "don't even.. don't even try to pretend, baby." you could feel him smile against your pussy, that sensation leaving you to moan against nam-gyu's cock. "been trying to suck in all your juices, pretty, and.. they just keep comin' out..." thanos mocks in a baby voice, "you're dripping... so you're actually a slut...a whore, huuhhh, not that cool, confident typa girl?" you cry, but.. why did you like the sensation? his warm tongue in and out of your cunt. at this point, the ecstacy that was in his mouth was getting your pussy high. "m'not into whores like you," thanos frowns and slides his' tongue up against your clit, biting it harshly, which made you yelp in pain, causing you to lightly bite nam-gyu's dick. he hissed, roughly slapping your face. "bitch!" he pulls your hair to face you, "do that one more fucking time and i'll speeden up your death, fuck." thanos' fingers came on cue, middle and ring finger plunging inside you, making you speechless, mouth open to nam-gyu's comment. he just takes it as an invitation to stuff your mouth again, leaving a low groan at the action.

"y'know dude,," thanos looks up at nam-gyu, "maybe we should keep her, after we win." nam-gyu scoffed, flicking your forehead, "you think you deserve to live, huh?" thanos chuckled, rubbing his fingers against your clit, he doesn't care if it felt good, you were just a toy afterall, "think about it.. she feels good, right? she'll be good for in the long run, trust me, man." "pft." "trust me! her cunts still tight, anyway, right princessssss?" your visions blurry, your will to live gone, still, atleast you're useful to someone or two, two of the most evilest dumbasses you'll ever encounter in your life.

[ozzgin]

Keeping the theme of literary yandere characters, I return with this Kafkaesque bizarrerie of a bureaucratic madman. content: gender neutral reader, kidnapping, absurdism

Yandere!Office Worker is a prim and proper young man. He's eloquent, well-mannered, and intelligent, albeit a little stiff in his ways. One can tell he enjoys rules and structure, perhaps to the point of absurdity - otherwise he wouldn't be such a great servant of the bureaucratic machine. Indeed, everything must go according to the established code of conduct; yet, the author of these instructions remains to be determined.

Yandere!Office Worker is convinced you must become his partner at once! Consequently, you wake up in a basement, though it's not the typical basement one would imagine when thinking about basements. The wallpaper is fresh and elegant, the little window bordering the ceiling allows for plenty of natural light, and the furniture is clean, luxurious, with a faint sterile smell to it. Of course, he cleans everything thoroughly every morning at exactly 7:45am, with the exception of your bed, as he does not wish to disturb your slumber.

Yandere!Office Worker listens to your horrified pleas with profound interest in his eyes. You're a tad annoyed by his sympathy. "Hey," you warn him, "you're literally the one who kidnapped me. Don't pretend you're not involved!" He gasps, his pale, slender hand clutching at his chest. Well, pretending to clutch, that is: he wouldn't want to wrinkle his buttoned shirt.

Yandere!Office Worker vehemently denies any kind of wrongdoing. No, no, you were not kidnapped. It's a misunderstanding! He has the paperwork, you see. Everything happened according to the law. If you do insist, he can call the Tribunal. They'll tell you it all happened officially and correctly. "What's this Tribunal you speak of," you ask with a skeptical frown. "Let me call them myself," you demand, "since you can't be trusted."

Yandere!Office Worker hands you the telephone with pompous theatrics. "You're in luck," he says, "they're only open on Thursdays and Tuesdays, but only if it's sunny." You rip the device from his fingers and dial the number. His own phone begins to ring. "Yes," he answers solemnly, "how may we help you?" You stare, bewildered, at the scene unfolding before you. "Are you mocking me? What's the meaning of this," you begin to shout, but he quickly places a finger over your lips. "Not right now, Darling, I have an important work call."

Yandere!Office Worker is a damned lunatic. You march towards the door and urge him to let you go. You have coworkers, friends, and family waiting for you outside. Your partner! This idea seems to upset him greatly, because he stomps his foot into the carpeted floor and gesticulates: "Because he lifted his skirts like this, this giddy goose," he cries out, "you chatted him up, dug your nose into the pretty words like a well-fed pig!" He grabs your hands with desperate urgency. "Won't you understand already? I'm your husband, I ought to know you better than all these strangers you speak of."

Yandere!Office Worker is rather convincing in his ministerial meltdown. You inspect the documents, putting each line under scrutiny. Finally, you click your tongue. The rascal has a point, after all, everything matches the paperwork. "No mistake," you confess, handing him the thick, leather-bound folder. "I suspected you'd come to your senses very soon," he beams. "Let's go upstairs, I'll make you a cup of coffee." You follow behind obediently. "I'd like-" you start, but he interrupts you. "Half a teaspoon of sugar, a little milk foam on top. Who do you think you're talking to, (Y/N)?"

[heavyhitterheaux]

Mo' Money Mo' Problems

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Asking for help has always been hard for you, but when you aren't left with another option, your recently drafted NFL boyfriend comes to your rescue

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested: by a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Erin looked at you as you sat down across from her and sighed. This had been going on for the past week and you had now given yourself a headache trying to figure out what you were going to do.

“Call your boyfriend.” Erin told you as she threw your phone for you to catch it, but you quickly shook your head no as you caught it before it hit the floor.

“I am not calling him.”

“And why NOT?” She exclaimed and looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Because this is my problem and I'm going to deal with it. I don't have to run to him for every little thing.”

“YOUR BOYFRIEND PLAYS IN THE NFL! AS A QUARTERBACK! Or did you suddenly forget?”

“Just because he plays in the NFL doesn't mean I’m going to take advantage of that.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Bestie, I love you but you fucking annoy me so much sometimes. So let me ask you this, Joe doesn't have a problem asking you for sex correct?”

“What in the world are you getting at?”

“Answer my question.”

“No, he doesn't.”

“And he fucks you raw simply because you had a fucking pregnancy scare two semesters ago when he won the Heisman.”

“Erin, get to the point already. I was scared out of my damn mind.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“My point is that you shouldn't have a problem asking your boyfriend who fucks you raw for money. At the very LEAST like bare minimum he can give you a little cash.”

“I get it but..”

“Uh no you obviously don't. And you know how he is. First thing out of his mouth is going to be why didn't you tell him. I'm convinced that man would drink your bath water if you let him.”

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Welp been doing that since we were three and that's not changing any time soon.”

“I don't know. I feel kind of weird asking people for anything. Like not just him and I’ve always been like that.” You said as you got up to go into your kitchen with Erin following close behind.

“It's not like he's going to want you to pay him back. I guarantee you that he'll give it to you without a second thought. You never know unless you try. Surprised he hasn't put your name on the bank account yet.”

“Something is wrong with you.”

“Bitch, don't act like he's not going to put a ring on your finger. Surprised he didn't do it our first semester.” Erin told you as you turned to look in the freezer for ground turkey to make homemade burgers for the two of you.

“Yes, obviously but not yet.”

“He is literally just waiting for you to graduate to do it.”

“And how do you know all this?” You asked as you began to cut up red onion along with some green bell peppers.

“I just do and like I said, he would drink your bath water.”

“Ew, Erin that's nasty.”

“Just calling it like I see it. But if you don't fix this in 48 hours when your rent is due, I'm calling Joe.”

Twenty four hours later you were finally lying down in your bed after a long and exhausting day, your phone rang indicating a facetime call coming through and you rolled over onto the other side to answer it. When your boyfriend's face came into view, you instantly smiled.

“Hi my love.” You quietly said and wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets that were covering you while propping up your phone.

“Hey baby doll. How was your day?” He asked while it looked like he was sitting up against the headboard.

“Hmm, long. I've been up since 4 in the morning. But you know I never pass up an opportunity to talk to you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too and Erin called me.”

“What? Why?”

She literally only gave you 24 hours and not 48 like she promised.

“You tell me. Something going on that I should know about?” Joe asked and you continued to look at him confused.

“Uh, not that I can think of.”

“Let me ask you this then. Have you paid your rent this month for your condo?”

“No and I have no idea why she called you. I told her I would take care of it.”

“Because you miscalculated your bills for this month and they added a whole bunch of fees and you decided to suffer instead of calling your boyfriend for help.”

“I…”

“Is that it?”

“I didn't want to bother you.” You quietly said and Joe just looked at you.

“Seriously? When are you ever bothering me? I have another question for you.”

“Yes?”

“You plan on being with me for a long time, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know that I'm going to take care of you right? Especially when you graduate and move up here.”

“Yes.”

“So, why wouldn't I take care of you now?”

“I know you will, but if I can do it on my own, I'm going to try to.”

“But I'm here and you don't have to. Aren't you a WAG now?” Joe asked as he smiled at you.

“I want to be the W and not the G.” You replied without skipping a beat.

“Who’s to say that I don't already have your ring?”

“Well, my finger is still bare so? What does that do for me?” You told him as you held it up so he could see your hand.

“Touché, princess.” Joe told you as he smirked.

“Mm hmm, that's what I thought.”

“But next time you come up here we're picking out a house.”

“I…”

“Me and my future wife along with my future kids need a place to live so we can start looking. Or we can have it built, your choice."

“And a new car, mine is on its last leg.”

“Name it and it's yours. That goes for whatever else you want to.”

“NO! I'm going to get it! You are not going bankrupt buying someone who is not even your wife expensive things.”

“You ARE my wife; it's just not on paper yet.” He told you as he shrugged while your cheeks began to heat up.

“Babeeeee.”

“What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And besides, I'm not spending any money from my contract. Just my endorsement deals. But back to our original problem, you're good for the rest of the year.”

“I… JOEY! That was like 4,000 dollars!”

“Money is not a factor when it comes to you. If you need it, I'm getting it. So can we move on?”

"Fine, while I have you in a giving mood, I want an elephant." You replied and Joe simply gave you a blank stare.

"Best I can do is the Cincinatti Zoo, you gotta work with me here."

"Well, you said 'name it and it's yours'."

"Baby, I meant within reason and an elephant is not within reason."

[wheels-of-despair]

I'm Gonna Love You Forever Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets some upsetting news and has to hide out at Evil Woman's house for a little while… it's an angsty one, kids. Contains: Fear and nightmares, bed-wetting and blood, childhood trauma and abuse, comfort and reassurance, a declaration of love. Words: 3.7k

A thwap comes from your right.

You glance over and chuckle. Eddie is lying next to you on your bed, on his stomach, and his face is planted in the middle of the history textbook he's supposed to be reading.

"Are you absorbing the necessary information better that way?" you ask, turning your attention back to a battered classroom-issued paperback.

"No," he grunts. "Need a break."

"I understand. You've been reading for a whole," you check your watch, "three minutes."

He groans.

"Finish this chapter and we'll take a break."

He groans louder, head still in his book. And then the phone rings. His head pops up. "It's Wayne, he says I gotta come home right now, can't study any more."

"Shut up," you laugh, smacking his denim-clad ass with your book as you get up and go to answer the phone.

Your brother already has it. You stand in the hallway with your arms crossed, waiting for either a hand-off or a dismissal. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand.

"Eddie's uncle wants to talk to him," he says lowly. You nod, hold up a finger, and return to your room.

"You're in luck, Munson; it really is Wayne."

Instead of looking relieved, Eddie looks concerned. It's understandable; Wayne never calls here. Eddie scrambles out of bed and skids into the hallway on his socked feet.

You sit on the bed and open your book, but don't absorb a single word... because you can hear Eddie's side of the conversation.

"What? Why? No. No. I can't. I'll stay at Rick's or something. I'll let you know. Bye."

It's tense. It's rushed. Something is definitely wrong. You toss your book aside when he hurries back into your bedroom. He closes your door and leans against it, face even paler than usual.

"You okay?" you ask, knowing the answer.

His lip begins to tremble. His eyes start to well. You're off the bed and wrapping your arms are around him in an instant. He squeezes you and buries his face in your neck.

"What happened? Is Wayne okay?"

Eddie sounds like he's starting to hyperventilate, so you guide him toward the bed. You get him to sit, then kneel on the floor in front of him and hold his hands in yours. He's hunched over; his eyes are scrunched tight, his face looking a little green.

"Breathe, baby. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe."

He squeezes your hands until you begin losing feeling in your fingers, but you don't let go. You couldn't, even if you wanted to. Eventually, his breathing slows and he releases his death grip on your hands.

"My dad's out."

You've been dating Eddie Munson for more than six months, and he's barely mentioned his father. You never asked about his parents; you figured if he wanted you to know, he'd tell you. And he did, occasionally. You'd gathered that neither of them were the nurturing type. You knew they were alcoholics. You knew Eddie's mother died when he was 7, and that he came to live with Wayne when he was 8. Everything else was something of a mystery that you figured he'd reveal in time, when he was ready.

Eddie takes a shuddering breath and begins: "He was supposed to be doing 15 years. It's only been 12. He showed up at the trailer a little while ago. Wayne says he wants to see me." Tears fall when he shakes his head. "I can't."

"Baby, you don't have to," you tell him softly. He closes his eyes. "Eddie, you don't have to see him if you don't want to. You're a grown-up. He can't make you do anything." He covers his face with his hands, and you move upward to wrap your arms around him again.

"I don't want to go home," he whimpers.

"So stay with me."

"Yeah, I bet your mom would love that," he says sarcastically, pulling back and swiping at his eyes.

"She literally went to court to fight my dad when we said we didn't want to see him anymore. She'll understand."

"I don't know how long it'll be 'til he fucks off."

"That's okay."

"What if she says no?"

"She won't," you say confidently.

You don't know what his father did to him, or why he was locked up, or why Eddie is so scared, but you know one thing: if that old man comes near the boy you love, it'll be the last thing he ever does.

You move your books to the floor and lie down on the bed together. Eddie buries his face in your chest and lets you hold him tight. You lie there in silence, gently playing with his hair, until you hear your mom come home from work.

"Be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

When you return to your room, Eddie is curled into a ball on his side, hugging your pillow. He looks up at you with fearful, red-rimmed eyes. You ease back onto the bed, lying down to face him, and reach out to tuck his shaggy hair behind his ear.

"Mom talked to Wayne," you tell him quietly. "He thinks staying here for a few days is a good idea, too. Said he'd bring you some stuff on his way to work. Is that okay? Will you stay?"

"Do you really want me?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course I do," you smile. You gaze into his big brown eyes and feel your heart swell. "I'd keep you with me all the time if I could." You kiss his the tip of his nose. "Oh, and Mom says she's making lasagna for dinner, in honor of getting our very own Garfield."

He snorts.

Eddie follows you into the kitchen when it's time for dinner like he usually does. He stays to eat with you several times a week anyway, so nothing feels at all out of the ordinary.

Until he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone knocks at the door. You place a hand on his leg under the table when your mom goes to answer it.

You both let out a quiet sigh of relief when you see Wayne step inside. He follows your mom into the kitchen, carrying a brown grocery bag and Eddie's Sweetheart.

"Can you spare a few minutes for dinner, Wayne?" your mom asks.

"No, ma'am, just came to drop off some stuff for the boy on my way to work."

Eddie gets up to take his things from his uncle.

"Talk to you outside for a minute?" Wayne asks.

"Yeah." Eddie sets his bag and other lover aside and follows Wayne outside. You stare at the door nervously while your mom packs a meal in Tupperware for Wayne to take with him.

When they return, Eddie looks shy, like a kid who's been coached on how to thank relatives for a gift he didn't really want. He takes his seat, and Wayne hovers in the doorway.

"Thank you again for takin' him in, ma'am. He gives you any trouble, you give me a call."

You smirk. Eddie blushes furiously and refuses to look in your direction.

Your mom laughs warmly. "Please. Eddie's never any trouble. We're always happy to have him." She hands the Tupperware container to Wayne. "Take this."

"Ma'am, I--"

"Take it." You're pleased to see that the Don't Argue With Me Voice works on grown-ups too.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Now Eddie's the one smirking, and Wayne's the one blushing.

"Alright," Wayne rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "I gotta get goin'. Thank you again, ma'am. Call if you need anything. And you?" Eddie looks up to see his uncle pointing at him. "Be good."

Eddie nods, and Wayne leaves with his Tupperware meal.

The rest of dinner passes uneventfully, and afterwards, you and Eddie pick up the Wayne-delivered goods and return to your room to pretend to finish your homework.

"Where can I…?" Eddie spins around in the middle of your room, looking for a safe place to stash Sweetheart.

"Anywhere you want," you smile, placing his bag of clothes in your desk chair and dropping onto the bed. "Mi casa es… Sweetheart's casa?"

He settles her in a corner, then comes to join you on the edge of the bed. He lets out a sigh that it seems like he's been holding for hours. You wrap an arm around his back and rest your chin on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He leans against you. "Wayne thinks he'll fuck off in a few days. Most of his old buddies are either dead or locked up. He's staying at the shitty motel by the laundromat. Wayne says he'll probably go back to my grandma's when he runs out of money."

"You have a grandma?" you ask.

Eddie waits a beat.

"That's what you got out of that?"

"You've never mentioned her."

He shrugs, making your head bob with his shoulder. "Didn't like my mom. Didn't like me. Don't know much about her."

"What's Wayne think about him being back?"

"Same thing I do. Wish he'd get hit by a fuckin' truck."

You're rubbing your hand up and down his back when a voice calls from the hall.

"I'm watching Dawn of the Dead, if you losers wanna quit sucking face long enough to enjoy some real entertainment."

You lift your head from Eddie's shoulder. "Wanna?"

"Does it mean I don't have to finish my history homework?" he asks hopefully.

"I was gonna skim the chapter and summarize for you anyway."

"Fuck yeah," he grins.

You head to the living room, get comfortable on the couch, and lose yourselves in zombieland for the next two hours. Not what you would've picked for a soothing distraction from a horrifying reality, but it seems to work for Eddie.

He seems calmer as you get ready for bed. You stand together at the bathroom sink to brush your teeth, letting the toothpaste dribble out of your mouths and growling like zombies at each other in the mirror.

This is, of course, when your mother walks by to say goodnight: When you've both got toothpaste dripping off your chins.

"I don't even want to know," she shakes her head, trying and failing to conceal her smile. "Everything's locked up, I'm going to bed." She doesn't usually announce that everything's locked up, but you appreciate her trying to pass it off as normal for Eddie's benefit.

"G'night," you both gurgle through your foam-filled mouths. She lightly smacks her own forehead with her palm and walks away laughing. You lean forward to spit and grin at each other in the mirror.

Once the lights are off and you're in bed, Eddie practically crawls on top of you. You hold him tight and stroke his hair, finding that one spot on his scalp that's been known to knock him out. It works. You hope his dreams are much happier than his reality as you begin to drift off to the sound of his steady breathing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck."

You open your eyes to a strange chant and suddenly remember that Eddie is supposed to be with you. You can't feel him. You roll out of bed and turn on the lamp. He's kneeling on the mattress, hair a mess.

"Turn around," he orders. "Don't look."

"Eddie, what's going on?"

"Turn around!"

You're in such a panic, you can't just turn your back on him. Your eyes drift from his frantic eyes to the wet spot he's trying to shield with his body. When your eyes meet his again, he crumbles.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he cries.

"Babe, it's okay," you begin.

"I'm so fucking sorry, just let me get my shit and I'll go," he continues.

"Eddie, would you stop?"

"I wish I was fucking dead, I'm so fuc--"

"Eddie! Stop!" Your sharp tone scares him enough to make him stop rambling.

You step toward a corner of the bed and pull the sheet back to reveal what's underneath.

"Look. Mattress pad. Easy fix. By morning, we can pretend it never happened."

He looks from the white corner of the fabric to you, and then back again. His mouth opens and closes several times.

You lean against your dresser and speak softly, resisting the urge to close the distance and embarrass him further. "You're aware that I hemorrhage for a significant amount of time every month, right?"

He nods.

"Sometimes I bleed through. My last mattress looked like such a murder scene, Mom was afraid to transport it across state lines. It's not a big deal. I go through this all the time."

He sniffs.

"Why don't you go hop in the shower? Just put your clothes in the hamper, and I'll throw a load of laundry in."

He starts to protest.

"Nobody'll suspect a thing," you cut him off before he can even begin. "I go through this at least once a month. It's practically expected of me. Nobody'll know."

He looks downward, and you let him consider his options.

"Can you turn around?" he asks quietly.

"Yep."

You turn your back and hear him rustling through his paper bag, and then hear the door open and close. You strip the sheets - only the bottom sheet had any traces of his shame - and ball them up.

You weren't lying; this does happen occasionally. Perhaps not as often as you implied, but enough that nobody would raise an eyebrow at the washing machine going at 3 am. You clean the spot on the mattress pad, change the sheets, re-make the bed, and grab clean pajamas. You'll throw your current ones in with the load, to support your 'It Was Me' story, should anyone question it. (They won't, but it would probably make Eddie feel better.)

"Did any get on you?" He'd crept back into your room so quietly, you hadn't even noticed him. He's eyeing the fresh stack of pajamas you've placed on top of the dresser.

"Nope," you smile, turning around. "Figured we could do with a complete re-set. I'll be right back."

You grab the sheets in one hand and your pajamas in the other, and head to the bathroom to collect Eddie's clothes.

Four minutes later, you return to your room. Eddie is sitting on the floor, leaning against your dresser, his knees to his chest. You sit next to him, but not close enough to touch him. Not yet.

"Please don't beat yourself up over this," you beg. "It's not a big deal."

"Fucking embarrassing."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He doesn't respond. You stretch your legs out in front of you, cross your ankles, and get comfortable.

"You know I'm gonna marry you one of these days, right?"

Still nothing.

"What do you reckon our life expectancy is? I figure we've got what, maybe 50 years ahead of us? That's a lot of time."

You place your hand on the floor between you, palm up, to see if he'll take it. He doesn't.

"I'm gonna love you forever," you inform him. "Sickness, health, weird haircuts, awful tattoos, all that jazz. I will love you if you suddenly develop a fondness for Madonna or disco dancing. I'll even love you if you become that guy who brings an acoustic guitar to parties and expects everyone to sit around and listen to him. Actually, maybe not with that one. Please don't be that guy." You pause, hoping for a laugh. When it doesn't come, you clear your throat and continue. "Point is, there's almost nothing that could make me stop loving you. This, right here? Doesn't change a thing. I fucking love you. Get used to it."

He lets it sink in, and then he sighs. Finally, he reaches for your hand. Your fingers lace together. You look over at him, and he slowly meets your eye.

"I fucking love you too."

"You better, Munson," you wink.

He smiles a tiny smile.

"Ready to go back to bed?"

He hesitates and asks, "Can I go out and smoke first?"

"Baby, you're a refugee, not a prisoner. You don't have to ask permission to leave."

"Right," he groans, hauling himself off the floor. He holds out his hands to help you up, and you take them.

"Do you want company, or do you need a minute?" you ask once you're standing.

He shrugs, looking at the floor.

"Because that's okay," you smile, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face.

"What's okay?"

"Needing a minute," you explain. "I just announced my intention to lock you down forever. We're probably gonna occasionally need a minute to ourselves."

"You can come with me," he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You follow him to the back door, put on your jackets and shove your feet into your shoes, and step out into the darkness. You sit next to each other on the porch steps, resting your head on his shoulder and huddling together for warmth as Eddie smokes in silence. It's pretty peaceful out tonight. The black sky is cloudless and dotted with stars. The air feels clean and crisp. Eddie's body provides just enough heat that you're not too bothered by the cold.

He seems calmer after he smokes his cigarette down to the butt, but he uses the tip to light another. It's going to be a long night. You press your fingers between your thighs, starting to feel the chill set in.

"You know the Speedway just this side of the county line?"

A run-down gas station with a cracked parking lot and a flickering neon sign comes to mind. Yeah. You know of it, but you've never been in. Gareth had suggested dropping in for snacks once when you passed by, but Eddie had said everything in there was overpriced and kept driving. You hadn't thought anything of it at the time; you and Eddie are 7-Eleven people, after all.

"Yeah," you whisper.

Eddie pauses so long, you wonder if he's reconsidering telling you whatever he was about to reveal.

"We were on a beer run," he says eventually. "Dad was already hammered. Ran over our mailbox and took out the neighbor's trash can on the way out. Swerved all over the road. I used to think it was fun, riding like that, but looking back I'm surprised nobody died." Eddie stops to take a long drag. "I stuck a pack of Sno-Balls under my shirt while Dad was paying for his beer. You know, those pink coconut cakes?" He glances at you for confirmation, and you nod. "The thought of those things makes me sick now. But when you're that hungry, they look fuckin' amazing. Anyway, the cashier spotted me and said something. Dad's face… I mean, it was already red from the drinking. But it looked like his head was going to explode. Eyes poppin' out of his head, vein throbbing in his neck. He grabbed me by the hair and just started whalin' on me, right there in the middle of the store. I heard people yelling, but I… I kinda just scrunched my eyes shut and waited for it to be over, like I always did. And then when I opened them again, Hop had the old man pinned to the floor."

Eddie sniffles and drags his sleeve across his face.

"I know you've never seen my dad, but he's not a big guy. Hopper could've fucking demolished him. But Hop had a busted lip. Blood just dripping out of his mouth and onto the old man. Sometimes I wonder… if maybe Hop let him get a swing in just 'cause he knew that's what it would take to finally put him away. And it did. He got 15 years for assaulting a cop."

A tear streaks down your cheek, and a smile tugs at your lips.

"Took three guys to haul Dad off. Still kicking and screaming. At me, at Hop, I dunno. But Hopper's the one who took me to Wayne's. Bought me a hot dog to eat on the way, and I think it might've been the best fucking thing I've ever eaten. Even with the sore jaw the old man gave me for getting caught. He always said to never trust a cop, but Hop… he's saved my ass more than once. I guess…" Eddie stubs out cigarette #2 and chuckles. "I guess if you have to leave me for somebody, Hop's a decent choice."

You knock your knee against his, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. His eyes are shiny and tear-filled in the moonlight. Is it a crime to think he's beautiful like this?

"What can I say?" you grin. "I've got great taste in men."

Eddie snorts, shakes his head, and stands. He offers you his hands, and you take them and let him help you off the steps. When you stand, he pulls you in for a hug.

"Thanks," he mumbles into your hair. "For tonight. For everything."

You feel like something needs to be said, but you can't find the right words. Instead, you hold him tight and kiss the side of his neck. He melts into you. You stand there, stuck together on your back porch, until a shiver rips through your body.

"Jeez, make us stand outside in the cold all night and get sick, why don't ya," Eddie grumbles, pulling away and putting his hands on your shoulders. He turns you around and pushes you toward the door. "Get inside where it's warm, you crazy woman. You've gotta take care of me for the next 50 years, you don't get to check out early."

You laugh quietly and let him push you inside. You silently shed your jackets and shoes and return to your bedroom, snuggling into your clean sheets and holding onto each other for warmth.

Four days later, Wayne stopped by to tell Eddie that his old man was back in jail where he belonged. Unable to resist the sight of the bar across the street from the shitty motel he was staying in, he'd wandered over, drank too much, and picked a fight with the guy on the stool next to him...

Who happened to be an off-duty Indiana State Trooper, visiting Hawkins to have a drink with an old friend named Jim Hopper.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Ryomen Sukuna

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Contains Spoilers: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, Redemption Arc, Alternate Endings, Heavy Angst, Mentions of Suicide, Grief, Emotional Neglect, Smut (18+), Pregnancy Loss, Cursed Energy Themes, Love Triangle, Second Chances, Found Family, Protective Sukuna, Tragic Backstories.

Minors DNI. As always, parts marked with {} can be skipped.

A/N: Hi, babes! So, this is the FINAL part of Alt Ending 1. Thank you for sticking with me through the emotional rollercoaster. Up next is Alt Ending 2 (Grovel Arc™), where Nanami and Gojo try to fix their sh*t. Honestly, no man has ever apologized to me properly, let alone grovel, so this is gonna be… interesting to write. 😭 Pray for me. Lastly, I NEED your thoughts: How did the smut go? This was my third attempt at writing it, so be brutal but kind. Oh, and for those worried about Sukuna meeting a woman at the hospital, don’t worry, I got you—mystery solved in this chapter! 👀" Sukuna literally goes feral mid-something in this, so brace yourself.

Chapter 8 (alt ending 1.4) - Fractured Tides (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 9 (alt ending 1.5 Final Part) - The Shadows We Bury

// Playlist

The sea was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. You sat cross-legged on the beach, a blanket draped over your shoulders, while next to you, Sukuna leaned against the low table, arms crossed. The air smelled faintly of rain, the night’s chill biting but bearable.

He was watching you—he always was—but tonight there was something different in his gaze. A weight, an intensity that made your skin prickle despite you watching in the waves in the opposite direction, far from him.

“What?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He didn’t answer immediately, just reached into his pocket with a deliberate slowness that made your chest tighten. When his hand emerged, it held a small, velvet box.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as he opened it, revealing a ring. The diamond shimmered faintly under the city lights, but there was something about it—something that made your stomach flip.

“They’re yours,” Sukuna said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

They are yours.

Those words were engraved in your soul at this point.

“I had the lab make this... from them. Took longer than it should’ve because the idiots didn’t know what they were doing.”

Your hands trembled as you stared at the ring , realization crashing into you like a wave.

“It’s okay if you don’t want this,” he continued, his crimson eyes flicking to yours, cautious but steady. “If you’re not ready, if this feels like too much, I’ll wait. Hell, I’ll wait forever if I have to. But I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you—all of you. And if nothing else... you should keep it. They’re yours, after all.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until your vision blurred, the first tear slipping down your cheek. Sukuna’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

“Say something,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost pleading.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his shoulder. His arms encircled you instantly, strong and grounding, holding you like you might slip away.

“Ryo,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin.

“I mean it,” he said, his breath warm against your hair. “You don’t have to—”

You cut him off, pulling back just enough to press your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, a whisper of a connection, but it deepened quickly, the raw emotion between you igniting like a spark to dry tinder.

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, desperate and unsteady, as if anchoring yourself to him could keep you from drowning in the moment.

When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his, your breaths mingling in the cool night air.

“I’ll keep it,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “And I’ll keep you too, if you’ll allow me.”

His chuckle sounded like relief-wolfish, but his eyes betrayed something softer, something that made your heart ache. “It’s about damn time, princess.”

The weight of the world felt lighter as you leaned into him again, his arms around you and the city lights stretching out before you.

---

// Playlist

Japan

The penthouse was dark, the blinds drawn tightly enough to block out the world. The faint glow of the city seeped in through the edges, casting jagged patterns on the floor. Gojo sat against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, the bottle of sake dangling from his fingers. The liquid inside sloshed lazily, mirroring the emptiness in his chest. His gaze drifted toward the mirror across the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. The last time he had, he’d seen your tear-streaked face, heard your muffled sobs echoing in his mind.

His six eyes still flickered with phantom images—the twisted forms of the children who never had a chance. Every blink brought them back: the boy’s elongated limbs, the girl’s fused fingers, the shared split-colored hair. His hands shook, the bottle slipping slightly before he tightened his grip.

Across the room, Nanami stood by the window, his shirt wrinkled—a stark contrast to the man he used to be. His reflection stared back, gaunt and lifeless, a stranger wearing his face. He hadn’t slept in days, his mind too loud and unforgiving, hadn’t eaten in days, and the tremor in his hands betrayed the toll his guilt was taking.

“Do you ever stop seeing them?” Gojo’s voice was barely audible, the words slurred and heavy.

Nanami didn’t answer immediately, his hand pressing against the cold glass. “No,” he said finally, his voice brittle. “I see them every time I close my eyes.”

Gojo let out a bitter laugh, hollow and broken. “Figures.” He raised the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig. The alcohol burned, but it wasn’t enough to drown the ache in his chest.

//

Later that night, Nanami found himself on the rooftop. The wind bit at his skin, sharp and cold, but he barely noticed. The city sprawled out before him, a sea of lights that felt impossibly distant.

I was supposed to protect her , he thought to himself. I was supposed to be better than this. Better than those creatures we gave her.

He gripped the railing, the steel cold under his palms. The height didn’t scare him. Nothing did anymore. The thought crept in again, unbidden and relentless. 

One step. Just one step, and it’s over.

Behind him, the door slid open. Gojo stepped out, his hair disheveled, his shirt hanging off his frame like it belonged to someone else. He didn’t say anything as he walked over, leaning against the railing beside Nanami.

“You thinking about it?” Gojo asked, his voice devoid.

Nanami’s grip on the railing tightened. “Every day.” He answered; Gojo was probably asking about his first thought, not the second one.

Gojo nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Yeah. Me too.”

Then, without preamble, he pulled out his phone as it buzzed with an incoming text, the screen glowing in the dim light.

“Sukuna wants to talk,” Gojo said, his voice low. He held the phone out toward Nanami, his expression unreadable.

Nanami’s brow furrowed as he hesitated.

Gojo dialed him back immediately, “It could be about her.”

The name went unspoken, but it was enough. There had never been anyone else, and there never would be, except you.

Nanami’s grip on the railing tightened before he stepped back, taking the phone. He pressed the speaker, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

“Stop trying to reach her,” Sukuna’s voice came through, unforgiving. “Stop pretending you’re regretful. You failed her. Both of you did. She doesn’t need your guilt, and she doesn’t need you.”

Nanami’s jaw clenched. “How is she?”

“Alive,” Sukuna replied, his tone casual, mocking. “Happier than she’s been in years. And she’s staying that way. You two will stay out of her life.”

Nanami’s shoulders sagged, the words hitting harder than he expected. He glanced at Gojo, who was staring at the phone with no expression, unable to think or speak.

Gojo leaned forward, his hands trembling. “Can we—”

“No,” Sukuna interrupted, his voice cold. “You can’t fix this. You can’t fix her. You don’t deserve to.”

Before he could respond, a faint sound filtered through the call. Laughter. Your laughter. Nanami’s breath hitched, his chest tightening painfully. Sukuna hadn’t hung up. He was letting them hear. You probably didn’t know.

“Hey!” Your voice came through, light and unguarded. “Guess what I remembered today? A ridiculous song I used to love.”

There was a rustling sound as you continued talking; they couldn’t hear what you were saying; they heard the next parts loud and clear.

“You’re mine,” Sukuna’s voice came next, low and possessive. “I’ll never share you with anyone.”

Your laughter bubbled up, unrestrained and genuine. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gojo’s grip on the phone tightened, his jaw clenching as he heard you hum a tune, your voice carrying a joy that had been absent when you were with them. The silence stretched as he listened, the pain evident in his eyes.

Nanami watched Gojo, the tension between them unspoken but palpable. The call was still live, but neither could bring themselves to speak. Sukuna’s voice cut through again, smooth and calculated, as you left.

“You hear that?” Sukuna’s tone was dripping with amusement. “She’s happy now. You both should’ve let her go sooner; she wouldn’t have had to go through that cursed pregnancy. You must have seen the reports. She stopped talking for months.”

Gojo’s eyes closed, his breath shaky as he muttered, “You’re hiding this from her. She doesn’t know we’re listening.”

“Of course not,” Sukuna replied, almost lazily. “Why would I let her see the people who broke her? Unlike you, I don’t hurt the people I care about.”

“You sent the reports?!” Nanami asked, frowning.

“Of course I did. You were spared because I was there in the hospital. I actually saw. Both of you deserved to carry the cursed knowledge of what you did to her.” Sukuna said, jaw tightening.

“Thank you for letting us know.” Nanami said, despite everything. They would have liked to know under any circumstance.

“Whatever, the last favor I will do is send you their remaining ashes. And you will stay away, or I’ll kill you. Capisce?” Sukuna challenged.

“Fine.” Nanami spoke after a beat too long.

Sukuna finally ended the call. For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the city below, indifferent to the wreckage above.

Then he turned away, his hands curling into fists. The rooftop seemed smaller, the air heavier.

“She’s better off without us,” Nanami said finally, his voice hollow.

Gojo didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

There was nothing left to say.

---

Far away, you sat in Sukuna’s lap with your head on his chest, sipping a glass of wine as you sang the tune you’d remembered. Sukuna’s hand rested on your waist, his smirk softening into something almost tender. He watched you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“You’re happy,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you.

You nodded, your smile radiant. “Yeah. I am.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his smirk sharp but softened by something deeper. In his pocket, your old phone sat buried, silenced forever.

Sukuna wouldn’t let the past touch you again. Not Gojo, not Nanami, not even the truth. Because for the first time, you were free—and he’d burn the world to keep it that way.

You looked up at him as his crimson eyes held a fierce intensity, drawing you into a world where darkness and allure intertwined, awakening a sense of danger and exhilaration. In that moment, you felt both vulnerable and alive, caught in the intoxicating dance of Sukuna's presence.

{Without much thought, you kissed him, nipping at his lower lip.

He lowly growled in response, sending heat pooling in your stomach, and before you could think, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist.

The world blurred as he carried you to the bed, his movements deliberate and unhurried. 

He kicked the door shut behind him, his hands firm on your hips as he carried you effortlessly into the room. Both wine glasses clattered somewhere on the floor outside, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, your fingers tangled in his hair as his lips moved against yours with a hungry, almost desperate fervor.

Your back pressed against the wall, your breaths shallow as his hands gripped your waist, firm but reverent. His body heat radiated through your clothes, and the faint scent of his cologne—spicy, dark, and utterly intoxicating—wrapped around you like a second skin.

“Still sure about this, princess?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, thick with restraint.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his, your hands sliding down his chest to grip the hem of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, pulling him closer until your lips were a breath away from his. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you as his mouth claimed yours, the kiss deep and unrelenting. His lips moved against yours with a skill that made your knees weak, coaxing soft gasps from you as his hands roamed, tracing the curve of your hips and the small of your back.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as you tried to anchor yourself in the storm of sensation. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls, the warm light painting his sharp features with a golden hue.

His hands moved with purpose, tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your thigh, the hollow of your neck. Every touch was deliberate, reverent, as though he were memorizing every inch of you. When his thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze softened, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the intensity, so rare it made your breath hitch.

The world blurred as Sukuna moved with you into his arms, his movements unhurried but filled with intent. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, as though you might shatter under anything less. Hovering over you, his lips trailed from your jaw to the tender spot below your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. The scrape of his teeth made you arch into him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“Bewitching,” he murmured, the word low and reverent as his hands slid beneath your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. His crimson eyes darkened, hunger and awe warring in his expression as he took in the sight of you.

Your fingers worked at his shirt, fumbling in your urgency to push it off his broad shoulders. The fabric fell away, revealing the intricate tattoos that wound across his chest and arms, their lines shifting subtly in the dim light. Your fingers traced their paths, marveling at the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His breath hitched, the sound low and guttural, as you explored the hard planes of his body.

His lips found the hollow of your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your skin. The faint graze of his teeth sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you. His name slipped from your lips, breathless and soft, spurring him on.

Sukuna’s kisses trailed lower, his mouth mapping your body with an intensity that left you spinning. When his teeth grazed the edge of your bra, you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Patience, princess,” he teased, his voice rough, but his smirk betrayed his own restraint. His hands found the clasp of your bra, undoing it with practiced ease. The garment slipped away, leaving you bare to the cool air and his heated gaze.

His lips returned to your skin, tracing the curve of your breast. His hand squeezed gently, his touch firm, as his mouth followed, lips closing around your nipple. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands.

He groaned, a deep, resonant sound that sent heat pooling low in your belly. His fingers traced the line of your throat, their touch impossibly gentle despite the fire burning in his gaze.

Your back arched into him, his mouth and hands working in tandem to draw sounds from you that you didn’t know you were capable of making. His tongue and teeth teased you relentlessly, each movement precise and devastating. For a fleeting moment, jealousy flared at the thought of anyone who had experienced this before you, but it evaporated as quickly as it came.

You were too close, too lost in him, your body trembling on the edge of release.

Sukuna pulled back, just enough to meet your gaze. His crimson eyes burned, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

Dammit, the fucker knew what he was doing.

This was insurance for Sukuna, not that he needed it.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was brutal, his tongue invading your mouth with a possessive fervor that left you gasping. His large frame, his strength, overwhelmed you, and yet you found yourself leaning into it, craving more.

He made quick work of your shorts and panties, discarding them in a single motion. Before you could process the loss of contact, one of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. His free hand moved with precision, and suddenly, a second mouth materialized on his palm.

Your eyes widened, your breath catching, but the memory of his earlier teasing about his extra limbs calmed you.

“Relax,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of amusement and command.

The mouth below moved, its tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line up your slit. The sensation was overwhelming, a shock of pleasure that made your body arch into him. Sukuna’s lips never left yours, his kiss fervent and unrelenting, muffling the moans spilling from your throat.

The tongue below was relentless, its movements brutal in their precision. It licked and sucked, the pressure perfectly calibrated to drive you to the brink. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as your body trembled beneath him.

Your vision blurred, your senses narrowing to nothing but the feel of him—the heat of his mouth, the strength of his hands, the intensity of his presence. He devoured you, body and soul, leaving no part of you untouched, no desire unfulfilled.

Then, without warning, he curled one long finger, then a second, and slid them inside you with a deliberate slowness. The stretch made you gasp, your body arching instinctively into his touch. His right arm gripped yours, holding you in place as his fingers began to scissor inside you, exploring and opening you with an expertise that had your breath catching while simultaneously his other mouth continued suck your clit.

It felt like you were being sucked and fucked at the same time.

Your body betrayed you almost immediately, writhing and trembling under his relentless attention. It had been so long since you’d felt this—since anyone had touched you like this—and the pleasure hit you like a wave, fast and unrelenting.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. The way his biceps flexed as he worked you open, the faint clench of his jaw as he focused entirely on you—it was intoxicating.

“Ryo—” you choked out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, pulling a cry from your lips.

But he didn’t stop.

His fingers continued their relentless pace, his palm-mouth sucking harder as if determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from you. The overstimulation made you thrash, your hands grabbing desperately at his hair, pulling harder than you intended. He groaned against you, the sound low and guttural, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers added a third.

The stretch was exquisite, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. You screamed his name, tears stinging your eyes as he pushed you into another orgasm almost immediately. Your body shuddered beneath him, your nails dragging across his scalp as you held onto him for dear life.

He groaned, his voice heavy with satisfaction as he felt you fall apart again and again beneath him. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone rough but tinged with pride.

And he didn’t stop.

By the time he coaxed the fourth orgasm from you, you were a mess beneath him—your body trembling, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. His smirk grew with every shudder, every broken sound you made, his crimson eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction.

“Ryo, please,” you finally cried out, your voice shaky and desperate.

His palm-mouth withdrew, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat he’d left behind. His gaze burned into you, feral and unrelenting, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. 

You didn’t hesitate, your hands fumbling to undo his belt. He helped you, his movements quick but controlled, until his pants and boxers were gone, and he stood before you in all his glory.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was huge, his cock thick and heavy, perfectly complementing his frame. The sight made your mouth water and sent a pang of nervous anticipation through you.

Tentatively, you reached out, your hand wrapping around his length. His breath hitched, his chest heaving as you began to stroke him slowly.

Your confidence grew as his breathing quickened, his head tipping back slightly, his eyes glinting with barely restrained hunger. You cupped his heavy balls with your other hand, rolling them gently as you increased the pressure on his shaft. A groan rumbled from deep in his chest, his eyes fluttering shut as he gave himself over to the sensation.

“Enough,” he growled, his voice strained. He caught your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed with a force that left you breathless.

You smiled smugly at him. Two could play this game.

The sound of the condom tearing was quick, his movements inhumanly fast as he rolled it on. He lined himself up with your entrance, his gaze meeting yours as he paused.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice softer, a rare moment of restraint.

You nodded, your body already arching toward him.

He pushed in slowly, the stretch making you gasp. The burn was sharp, but the way he peppered your face with kisses, his deep baritone voice murmuring reassurances, made you crave more.

“You’re perfect,” he grunted, his forehead resting against yours.

You gripped his hips, pulling him deeper despite the overwhelming sensation. By the time he was fully seated, you were trembling, the fullness leaving you breathless.

Sukuna stilled, giving you time to adjust, his lips brushing against your wrist in a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. When you nodded, he began to move, his pace slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment.

Your nails raked down his back, drawing a growl from him as his restraint began to slip. His thrusts grew harder, deeper, each one drawing a cry from your lips.

He was unable to control it anymore.

The air shifted as Sukuna leaned back, his smirk turning feral. His tattoos began to glow, spreading across his skin like dark ink as his true form emerged.

You gasped when another set of arms materialized, their strength pinning your hips gently but firmly. Panic flashed through you for a moment, memories of past hurts threatening to surface, your husbands.

“Shh,” Sukuna murmured immediately stilling, his voice soft and grounding. He rested his forehead against yours, his gaze steady. “It’s just me, princess. Just me.”

You nodded for him to continue, your breathing evening out as his lips captured yours again, pulling you back into the moment. The extra hands gripped your hips as you held him closer, their hold unyielding but careful, anchoring you as he thrust deeper, his pace unrelenting.

The stretch, the pressure, the sheer overwhelming sensation—it was too much, and yet not enough. You moaned his name, your body trembling as he drove you higher and higher, his voice and touch grounding you even as he unraveled you completely.

Sukuna’s claws scraped against your skin, the faint sting leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The sensation wasn’t frightening; it was exhilarating, a primal rush that left you breathless. When you met his gaze, his four crimson eyes gleamed with a mixture of raw desire and something deeper—reverence.

For a fleeting moment, Sukuna hesitated. His form, larger and more imposing, wasn’t meant for tenderness. He feared you might flinch, might look at him with the same disgust he’d seen in others before. But then you wrapped your arms around him, your hands threading into his hair as you pulled him into a kiss that was all teeth and ferocity.

The message was clear: words would fail you, but your actions wouldn’t. He wasn’t just desired; he was wanted.

Sukuna groaned into the kiss, his claws gripping your hips as his larger body pressed against yours. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with emotion.

His lips claimed yours again, desperate and feral. The weight of him, the sheer power radiating from his form, should have been overwhelming, but it wasn’t. It grounded you, pulling you into the intensity of the moment. Your hands explored the new ridges of his body, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his horns, the rippling muscles beneath his cursed marks.

Your hips bucked against him instinctively, drawing a low, wicked chuckle from his throat. “Needy little thing,” he murmured, his smirk teasing. 

“Take me, princess,” he grunted, his claws gripping your thighs as he thrust deeper.

The intensity grew, Sukuna’s movements becoming less restrained. His hands—now four—worked in perfect unison. One gripped your hips, holding you in place as he thrust into you with a brutal rhythm. Another two cupped your breast, his thumbs flicking over your nipple, while the fourth wrapped gently around your throat, his grip firm but not constricting.

His other mouth reappeared below his Adonis belt, its tongue flicking over your clit with maddening precision. The combined sensations made you arch against him, your nails digging into his shoulders as moans spilled uncontrollably from your lips.

“Mine,” he growled, his voice reverent yet commanding, the words vibrating against your skin.

The air seemed to thrum with energy as Sukuna’s pace quickened, each thrust deeper and more powerful than the last. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

“Ryo I'm going to—please,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your body trembled on the edge.

“Let go,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. “I’ve got you.”

You shattered beneath him, the pleasure consuming you in waves so intense they left you gasping for air. But Sukuna didn’t stop.

He flipped you effortlessly into new positions, his strength and stamina leaving you pliant and trembling. On your back, on your knees, straddling his lap—each time, his thrusts were calculated, his touch both demanding and tender.

By the fifth orgasm on his cock, a few of them ending with you squirting, your body was shaking uncontrollably, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. Sukuna groaned deeply, his grip tightening as he buried himself to the hilt, his growl vibrating through your body as his release followed yours.

The room fell silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths. Sukuna withdrew, his hands moving with care as he disposed of the condom. Then he shifted back into his human form, his arms—still strong but less imposing—wrapping around you as he pulled you close.

His forehead rested against yours, his fingers brushing stray strands of hair from your damp face. “You okay, princess?” he asked softly, his crimson eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, your lips curling into a tired, blissful smile. Words failed you; you were too spent to form a coherent response. But Sukuna’s smirk grew as he watched you, the smug satisfaction in his expression undeniable.

Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, soft and unguarded: “I love you, Ryo.”

Sukuna stilled, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as if processing your confession. For a fleeting moment, you thought you’d made a mistake, your chest tightening with uncertainty. But then his smirk softened into something rare, achingly tender. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a gesture so gentle it made your heart ache.

Then he pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to one of careful scrutiny. “As much as I’d like to hear that, I need to know if it’s real,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost hesitant. “Your judgment might be... clouded after that. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way tomorrow.”

His claws stroked through your hair as he studied your face, his crimson eyes searching for something—hope, maybe, or reassurance.

You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against the sharp line of his jaw. “I’m sure of it,” you said, your voice steady despite the rawness of the moment. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze locked onto yours. Then he pulled you closer, his breath fanning across your lips. “I never thought this day would actually come,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You chuckled softly, the tension breaking just enough for warmth to creep in.

His smirk returned, sharp and wolfish. “I love you too, mortal,” he said, the teasing edge in his tone undercut by the sincerity in his eyes. He captured your lips in a kiss so intense it left you breathless, his hands tangling in your hair as if anchoring himself to you.

“If you weren’t about to pass out, I’d fuck you through the night,” he added, his grin turning mischievous.

You laughed, weak but genuine, and nestled closer to him. “You are a succubus.”

“Good for you,” laughing he murmured, his voice warm.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as if the world outside didn’t exist. For a moment, it truly didn’t. It was just the two of you, wrapped in the aftermath of something far more profound than passion. Something real. Something unbreakable.

His touch remained tender, his hands cradling you like you were the most precious thing in his world. For once, there was no need for words; his actions spoke louder than anything he could say.

As the night wore on, he cleaned the two of you, and the intensity softened into a quiet, lingering closeness. Sukuna held you against his chest, his larger form enveloping you protectively. His claws traced lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you. His breath was warm against your hair, and the steady beat of his heart lulled you into a peaceful haze.

For the first time in almost a year, you felt whole—safe, cherished, and utterly loved.

The next morning, however, the beast you’d unleashed made itself known.

Sukuna woke you before dawn, his smirk as sharp as ever. “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his hands already wandering.

By the time you were scrambling to get dressed for work, your legs trembling and your voice hoarse, you’d lost count of how many times he’d made you scream his name.

“You’re insatiable,” you muttered, glaring at him as he leaned lazily against the doorframe, shirtless and utterly unbothered.

His laugh was rich, unrepentant.

You were late for your meetings that morning, and Sukuna wore his wolfish grin like a badge of honor.}

---

Japan

// Playlist

Their apartment was as cold as the men who once occupied it. The furniture, meticulously arranged, now felt sterile—lifeless. The whiskey bottles cluttering the kitchen counter told a story of nights spent drowning in regret. Dust coated every surface, a physical manifestation of the neglect that had seeped into every corner of their lives.

Nanami sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets still wrinkled from the last night he’d spent sleepless there.

Your old bed. The one he had ignored you in. The one that bore silent witness to his failures.

His elbows rested on his knees, his broad shoulders hunched forward, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared at the floor, not really seeing it, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the physical world. His hair, once meticulously groomed, was disheveled.

The weight of his thoughts pressed down on him, suffocating. His lips moved, the words barely audible.

“I failed her.”

The room offered no answer. It never did.

His mind drifted back to you—your face, your laughter, the light in your eyes that he had so carelessly extinguished. He had failed you—his wife. You had been overlooked, neglected, and trapped in a marriage where their loyalty had wavered. His nights tangled with Gojo had driven a wedge too deep to repair. 

You had begged him, hadn’t you? Pleaded with him to see you, to acknowledge you, to love you. But he hadn’t. He’d been too consumed by his own desires, too blinded by the illusion of control.

He had known you deserved better, but when you walked away, he hadn’t chased you; he hadn’t even realized you left after weeks.

And then there were the twins—his and Gojo’s. He hadn’t even noticed the cursed energy signatures you carried and hadn’t paid attention to the life growing inside you. Gojo had been his gravity, pulling him into an orbit that left you forgotten.

The miscarriage had been the final blow, a tragedy that shattered the fragile remnants of what once was. The hollowness inside him grew unbearable. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw them—the grotesque, malformed fetuses, twisted by the very cursed energy that had created them. The image was seared into his mind. Those fetuses weren’t children—elongated limbs, twisted spines, faces that seemed to accuse him even in death. They weren’t children. They were an abomination, a reflection of the sin that had consumed him. He couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to you, for the pain he had inflicted in the haze of lust and neglect.

His breath hitched as he remembered your last gaze. The fear, the disgust—it had been etched so deeply into your features that he couldn’t forget it even if he tried. You had looked at him as though he were a monster, and maybe you were right.

Nanami’s hand reached for the blade on the nightstand, its edge glinting faintly in the dim light. It was the same blade he had wielded as a grade one sorcerer, a tool that had once been an extension of himself. He hadn’t used it in years, not after becoming a special grade, but tonight, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

He ran his thumb along the edge, the sensation grounding him in a way nothing else could.

A solution to the endless loop of failure and regret that played in his mind.

The silence in the apartment deepened, wrapping around him like a shroud. He thought of you, far away, happy in a life he no longer had a right to touch. He thought of Gojo, somewhere out there, probably drinking himself into oblivion. He would likely bounce back to his usual obnoxious self once his suspension would be removed and he’d be back with his students.

He thought of the twins.

This wasn’t a risk. His life had always been a series of moves, risks weighed and measured, but this—this was certainty.

His breath was steady. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. This was the only way to silence the ghosts, to end the endless loop of failure and regret.

As the blade fell, so did he—into the stillness that had always eluded him in life.

---

// Playlist

Gojo arrived hours later, the front door slamming shut with a loud thud as he chucked his shoes away and drunkenly called out for Nanami. But when he didn’t get a response. His six eyes immediately took in the scene: empty bottles scattered across the floor and the stark red contrast of blood staining everything in its path. The red so vivid it burned into his retinas.

“No,” he whispered, the word barely audible, breaking like glass in his throat. His heart dropped as his feet carried him forward towards the bedroom.

The ground beneath him felt unstable, as if it might crumble and drag him into the abyss waiting just beyond his senses.

Nanami lay on the bed, lifeless. His cursed blade was still clutched in his hand, a cruel mockery of the strength that had once defined him. Even in his final moments, Nanami had been methodical.

Gojo dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hands trembling as they reached for Nanami’s face. His fingers hovered just above the skin, unable to make contact, as though touching him would confirm the unbearable truth.

“Kento,” he croaked, his voice cracking. “No. No, no, no—what did you do?”

Nanami’s skin was cold, devoid of the warmth that had always been his anchor.

Tears blurred his vision, but his six eyes betrayed him, sharpening every agonizing detail: the slackness of Nanami’s jaw, the pallor of his once-warm skin, the faint streaks of dried tears on his cheeks.

Gojo pressed his forehead against Nanami’s, his body wracked with sobs. “You were supposed to stay,” he choked out, his voice breaking like glass. “We were supposed to figure this out. Together.”

The silence mocked him, louder than any scream could have been.

His cursed energy flared uncontrollably, crackling like a storm that had lost its anchor. The room trembled under the weight of his despair. Mirrors shattered, furniture splintered, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with the force of his anguish.

But none of it mattered.

“You promised,” he muttered, his voice raw and broken. “You said you wouldn’t leave. You said you’d stay.”

He didn’t know who he was pleading with—Nanami, himself, the universe—but the words spilled out, jagged and desperate.

“You were supposed to stay,” he muttered, his voice breaking. “You were all I had left. You promised.”

Gojo had lost everything. Suguru, his best friend and the only person who had ever understood him completely, had been the first to leave. His departure ripping a hole in Gojo’s heart that had never truly healed.

Then you—his wife, his home—had walked away, pushed to the edge by his arrogance and neglect. He’d been too wrapped up in his own chaos, too blind to see the damage until it was too late.

The twins came next—his fragile, desperate hope. They had been taken before they could even take a breath, their twisted forms a cruel reminder of his hubris. He had destroyed them before they had a chance to live.

And now, Nanami.

The one person who had endured it all. The one person who had stayed. The one person who had endured his flaws, his chaos, his failures—who had held him together when he couldn’t do it himself. The one person Gojo had trusted to never leave him. Gone.

He staggered to his feet, his body trembling like a brittle structure on the verge of collapse. The air thick with the scent of blood and regret. Stumbling out, he didn’t know where he was going, only that he couldn’t stay.

The city swallowed him, its noise and vibrancy an unbearable contrast to the void inside him. He wandered aimlessly, his vision unfocused, his feet dragging him forward without direction.

The streets were alive with chatter and laughter, the kind of mundane joy that had long since become foreign to him. He hated it. Hated how the world kept turning, indifferent to the wreckage of his life.

He stopped in the middle of a crosswalk, cars honking and lights flashing as the chaos of the city surged around him. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru felt utterly, completely powerless.

The strongest sorcerer, brought to his knees by the weight of his own failures.

He whispered your name, barely audible above the din, as if calling out to you might anchor him. But there was no answer. There never would be.

And as the world moved on without him, Gojo stood frozen, a man who had lost everything.

He took a split-second decision to go around Tokyo or its nearby areas—as far as his body would allow—and kill as many curses as possible in one night, but as he ran, the hollow ache, the insufferable pain, grew.

The streets of Tokyo were getting more and more restless, pulsing with the life of a city that never stopped, never cared. Gojo moved through them like a phantom, his body a blur, his six eyes scanning for curses. He wasn’t hunting them out of duty, nor out of anger. This was something else—something desperate, something final.

His cursed energy crackled around him, unstable and feral. Each exorcism was brutal, accurate, and devoid of the flair that had once defined him. He didn’t toy with the curses, didn’t smirk or taunt. He simply destroyed, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.

The hollow ache in his chest deepened with every step, every swing of his cursed energy. The pain wasn’t physical; it was a void, vast and insatiable, devouring him from the inside out.

By the time the sky had an hour to lighten, he had crossed half the city, his legs heavy and his cursed energy flickering like a dying flame. He had done what he set out to do. And yet, the ache persisted, gnawing at the edges of his sanity.

Somehow, his aimless wandering brought him back to the rooftop. Their rooftop. Your rooftop.

The wind howled, whipping against his face with a biting chill, but it didn’t numb the pain. Nothing did. He stood at the edge, his silhouette stark against the approaching twilight. Below, the city bustled, oblivious to the man standing on the precipice of existence.

Gojo lowered himself onto the edge, his legs dangling over the side. The movements were slow, like he was savoring the weight of his own body, the solidity of the world beneath him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, the act almost ritualistic now.

The flame from his lighter flickered in the wind, but he shielded it with his hand, lighting the cigarette. The first drag burned, the smoke searing his lungs and grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“Guess you got tired of my bullshit too, huh, Nanamin?” He muttered, his voice rough and tinged with bitter humor. The words hung in the air, unanswered, as the city buzzed far below. How would a deadbody answer him lying in his own house?

He exhaled, the smoke curling upward and dissolving into the vast expanse of the night.

The rooftop began to tremble, subtle at first, then more violently as his cursed energy spiraled out of control. Cracks formed beneath him, spiderwebbing across the concrete as the air around him grew thick with pressure.

Gojo extended his hand, summoning a miniature Limitless Void. The black orb hovered above his palm, expanding slowly, its presence suffocating and absolute. The edges of reality bent around it, the weight of infinity pressing against the fragile fabric of existence.

For the first time, he welcomed the crushing stillness.

He leaned back, his head tilting toward the sky. The stars were faint, barely visible against the encroaching light of twilight sun—the sun you had once said he was. His six eyes shimmered, their brilliance dimmed but still hauntingly beautiful.

“See you on the other side, Nanamin,” he whispered, the words soft but resolute.

His eyes fluttered closed as he let the void consume him, the weight of his burden finally lifting.

By the time the sun rose, the rooftop was silent. The first rays of light crept over the city, illuminating the faint scorch marks where Gojo Satoru’s lifeless body lay.

The air was still, the remnants of his cursed energy lingering like an echo. The city below carried on, its rhythm unbroken, oblivious to the loss of the strongest sorcerer.

There were no witnesses, no grand farewells. Just the quiet, empty rooftop and the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.

And as the sun climbed higher, the world moved forward, leaving behind the man who had once carried it on his shoulders.

---

A few years later, the bustling streets of Tokyo felt foreign now, though they had once been your home. Each corner carried ghosts of a life you had long buried, fragments of memories too sharp to touch.

This trip wasn’t planned—it was a last-minute necessity. You needed to retrieve your signed divorce papers to legally marry Sukuna. You’d hesitated to return, the thought of facing the past like a jagged blade pressing against your skin, but Sukuna had insisted he’d tag along.

“Can’t let you face this place alone, princess,” he’d said, his smirk softer than usual, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the monster.

The courthouse smelled like old paper and regret, the kind of place where lives were signed away with a flick of a pen. You sorted through stacks of paperwork, your hands steady, your heart a fortress. Then, a familiar voice pierced the quiet.

“It’s tragic, really,” said the lawyer, an old man who had once been on retainer for Gojo’s family to handle the endless property damage claims Gojo racked up. His tone was heavy with the practiced sympathy of someone who dealt in human misery daily. “What happened to Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento? They—well, you must know. It was all over the news back then.”

You froze, the papers slipping from your hands and scattering across the desk. His words hung in the air, suffocating.

“No,” you said, your voice devoid of emotion, as though speaking through a layer of glass. “I don’t know.”

The lawyer’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “You didn’t hear? They… they took their own lives. Together. It was years ago.”

“Ma’am?” A voice behind you called out.

You turned to find one of the witnesses to your wedding with the dead men.

“Hello Ino. You can call me by my name.”

“Umm ya. I was here to get my license back after racking up a few tickets. Gojo San killed all the curses and curse users in one night around Tokyo that day before… But ahh.. I got this a few days after... you know the day... in my mail along with instructions to cremate them with the twins. I flowed their ashes in Tokyo Bay, and I didn’t know where you were, so I have been caring it around ever since.” He said, nervously handing you an envelope.

The room tilted, the fluorescent lights above flickering like a dying heartbeat. You bent to pick up the fallen papers; your movements were mechanical, detached.

You took the letter and kept it. You didn’t care about reading it; you just didn’t want Ino to carry its burden.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice clipped, as though thanking both men for telling you the time instead of ripping open a wound you thought had long been scarred over.

Outside, Sukuna leaned against the car, smoking with Choso. Yuji sat in the backseat, watching some brightly colored anime on his phone, the laughter from the tiny screen a cruel juxtaposition to the hollow ringing in your ears.

“Done already?” Sukuna asked, straightening up as he and Choso flicked their cigarettes.

Sukuna leaned in to press a kiss to your temple as he guided you towards the passenger door, his crimson eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah,” you replied, slipping into the passenger seat, your expression unreadable.

Once he got in the driver's side while Choso hung in the back with Yuji, Sukuna’s gaze lingered, his intuition catching the faint tension in your shoulders, the tightness in your jaw. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, turning to look out the window.

And you were. There was no ache in your chest, no tears burning at the corners of your eyes. The news was a fact, a statistic, nothing more.

“They’re gone,” you whispered to yourself, the words as weightless as the ashes Sukuna had flicked into the wind.

Sukuna didn’t press, his silence offering comfort words never could. He just drove, his hand briefly brushing against yours on the console, steady and unyielding as ever.

That night, as you lay in your bed back in the Seychelles, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside, you thought about them for the first time in years. The memories came unbidden, like waves lapping at a shoreline long abandoned.

You remembered the nights you spent with them, wrapped in the illusion of love and stability, the promises whispered between breaths, the warmth of their hands on your skin. And then you remembered the way they looked at each other, their gazes, a language you were never fluent in, the moments when you became invisible, a shadow in your own marriage.

The twins—your twins, theirs—had been your breaking point. The miscarriage had gutted you, left you hollow and raw, and they hadn't offered anything but their own grief, twisted and selfish when the most powerful sorcerers should have been the first to know of their children in your womb. They hadn’t even noticed you fading; the light in your eyes extinguished. They had been too caught in their orbit, too consumed by each other, to see you drowning.

And when you finally begged them, they didn’t care. Nanami’s stoic silence had been a knife to your chest, and Gojo’s arrogant laughter, masking his disbelief, had been the salt rubbed into the wound.

“They made their choice,” you whispered into the darkness, your voice steady, your heart unmoved.

Sukuna stirred half asleep beside you, his arm pulling you closer to his chest. “What choice?”

You didn’t answer, and he didn’t ask again. His hand rested over your stomach, where life had once flickered and faded, his touch a silent vow that you would never feel that emptiness again.

For the first time in years, you slept without nightmares.

//

“Dada, when will Mama wake up?” Emi’s small voice broke the morning stillness. She clung to Sukuna’s leg, her wide, heterochromatic eyes—one the cerulean blue, the other the deep amber—gazing up at him with an innocence that belied her very nature.

“She’s tired, Emi. From the jet lag,” Sukuna replied, his tone conversational as he sliced through vegetables.

“Mama didn’t get nightmares last night,” Kōen chimed in from the counter, where he was perched, slurping instant ramen. His split-colored hair glinted in the morning light, an eerie echo of his parentage. “I sensed it.”

“I sensed it too,” Sukuna affirmed, cracking eggs into the bowl.

Despite his thousand years as a curse, Sukuna had never imagined himself in this role: a father to beings so uniquely terrifying. His long existence had been marked by solitude, reflection, and eventually, the decision to end it all—only to be reborn, half-human, half-curse, in his own descendant’s bloodline.

He had tried being a sorcerer again, but the endless cycle of death and corruption left him disillusioned. The weak died; the strong grew drunk on power. He had walked away, vowing never to look back.

When Megumi had first arrived looking for you and Sukuna had to leave for a few days, he hadn’t anticipated the call from the hospital. It was the same place where you’d undergone the dilation and curettage after losing the twins. Uraume’s frantic voice still echoed in his ears.

“There’s something happening at that precise hospital. Suicide rates have spiked out of nowhere,” they’d insisted. While the hospital floor manager spammed him every hour.

Reluctantly, Sukuna went. The morgue was cold, sterile, and silent, save for the faint cries echoing from the shadows. His stomach twisted as he stepped closer, his eyes landing on the source of the sound.

Two grotesque forms writhed on the floor. They were the size of newborns, their twisted limbs and split-colored hair an unmistakable resemblance to the children you’d lost. Their cries were hauntingly melodic, a siren song that chilled the air and sent shivers down his spine. They crawled after the hospital staff on their knees, like infants seeking comfort.

They didn’t even acknowledge Sukuna at first.

His chest tightened, an ache spreading through him as he stared at the malformed beings. Slowly, he began to hum. The lullaby—their lullaby. The one he’d made up for them when they were restless, keeping you awake through the night.

The cries softened. Their heads turned toward him, their movements jerky and unnatural.

But they were horrifying to look at. Their forms were wrong, their very existence a violation of nature. Sukuna knew he couldn’t leave them like this.

When Uraume arrived, Sukuna had already made his decision. He moved the twins to a secure location and did the only thing he could think of: he shoved ten of his own fingers down each of their throats. It’s not like his soul would possess them; his soul was reincarnated.

The transformation was immediate. Their twisted forms gave way to soft, perfect skin. The grotesque cries became soft coos. They were no longer curses of suicide; they were infants, whole and complete.

But the relief was short-lived.

As Sukuna studied their energy, the truth became clear. These children were curses of death after their own deaths. Any non sorcerer who saw them—truly saw them—would die within sixty seconds. Only the dying could perceive them safely.

Bringing them to you was out of the question. Letting you know could result in you doing reckless things in order to see them, and Sukuna would not let that happen. The kids understood this as they grew, their burden weighing heavy on their small shoulders. Sukuna, Uraume, Choso, and Yuji became their guardians, raising them in secrecy. The twins adored you, but they could only watch from the shadows, unable to interact directly.

It seemed they had inherited their fathers’ burdens. But they didn’t have a hand in their death; they had been with Sukuna at the time. That was all their fathers’ own doings.

They were special grades unlike anything the world had ever seen, their cursed energy carrying traces of Gojo, Nanami, and Sukuna himself because of his cursed fingers. At just four years old, they had not one Domain Expansion, but three—one from each of their fathers, with the potential to develop more. Even Gojo and Sukuna didn’t know what the fuck domain expansion was at that age.

Sukuna’s thoughts broke as he heard you stir in the bedroom, the sound of the sheets shifting pulling him back to the present.

He turned to the twins, who were now perched on the couch, waiting for his instructions. Their mismatched eyes glinted with curiosity, though they didn’t speak.

“Time for school,” Sukuna said, his voice firm but gentle. “Choso’s waiting downstairs. Don’t make him yell.”

The twins scrambled off the couch, each hugging one of Sukuna’s legs before running out the door. Their laughter echoed down the hall as Choso’s exasperated voice rang out, “Don’t run! You’ll trip and break something!”

Sukuna sighed, shaking his head. They were a handful, but they were his. And he'd do everything to keep them safe, not that they needed it.

As he turned back to the kitchen to finish the omurice, he couldn’t help but glance toward the bedroom, where you were beginning to wake. For all the burdens he carried, the sight of you—alive and at peace—was enough to keep him moving forward.

----

It was folded so carefully that it seemed Nanami believed its neatness could shield you from the chaos within. The scent of aged paper filled the room. It's ink was slightly smudged, as if tears had fallen on it during its writing.

The words stared back at you, raw and unpolished, unlike Nanami’s usual precision.

To the woman I failed to deserve,

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. Maybe I’ll find the courage to send it; maybe it’ll stay buried here with everything else I couldn’t say aloud.

If you’re reading this, I wasn’t strong enough to say it aloud. I always thought there would be more time—more moments to make things right, to fix what I broke. But time has a way of slipping through your fingers when you need it most.

I don’t even know where to begin. How do you apologize for a crime so immense it feels woven into your very being? How do I tell you that every breath I take now feels stolen from someone better, someone who wouldn’t have left you alone in the dark?

When we started this, I thought I could give you everything you deserved. Stability. Love. A partner who would always stand by your side. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of you. I let myself get caught in the orbit of something I thought I needed, and I let you drift further and further away.

I should’ve seen you.

Every day, I should’ve noticed the way your shoulders carried a weight too heavy for one person. I should’ve seen the way your eyes dimmed as you fought to hold yourself together. Instead, I turned away, selfishly clinging to the things that made me feel whole, even as they shattered you.

I let you carry us. And when you couldn’t anymore, I let you go.

The twins…

God, I can’t stop thinking about them. I dream about them every night. They’re always there, reaching for me, crying out, extending their tiny hands... but I can’t hold them. I can’t even touch them. They never had the chance to exist outside of you. It’s like the universe is punishing me for daring to believe I could be their father.

You carried them, even when it tore you apart, because you loved them in ways I never gave you the space to love me. And when you lost them—when we lost them—I wasn’t there to hold you. I wasn’t there to take even a fraction of that pain. I can never forgive myself for that.

I wasn’t there.

You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. But I also know that strength comes at a cost. I see it now—the toll it’s taken on you, on your heart.

If I could rewrite the story, I’d choose you every time. Not out of obligation, but because you were always the one. You were the constant, the one who made everything else bearable.

You deserved someone who could’ve seen the warning signs, someone who would’ve been by your side before the storm hit. Instead, you got me—a man so consumed by his own failures he didn’t notice yours until it was too late.

And now, I’m left with nothing but this: words on a page you likely will never read. Words that will never be enough to undo the damage.

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this, why I’m making you carry this too. But the truth is, I can’t leave this world without telling you the one thing I was too much of a coward to say before:

You were my salvation.

Every smile, every glance, every moment you gave me—those were the only times I felt like I was worth something. But I wasn’t. I see that now. I wasn’t enough for you, and I wasn’t enough for them.

You were my lighthouse in a storm I couldn’t escape, and I turned away.

I’m not asking for forgiveness—I don’t deserve it. But if you can find it in your heart, I hope you can find peace. Not for me, not for Gojo, but for yourself.

You deserve a life without shadows. A life where you can breathe freely again.

You deserve love. You deserve someone who will see you for the incredible, breathtaking force of nature you are.

Sukuna deserves you. From the only time I met him, I knew he would do anything to keep you safe. He looked at you the way Gojo and I used to look at you. Maybe he will keep you safer than we ever did. And even if he doesn’t, I hope you are happy and protected wherever you go. I hope you and Megumi become friends again.

I love you. I’ve always loved you.

I’ll never be able to stop loving you.

Even now, even when I’ve become the very thing I feared most—another ghost haunting your life.

Goodbye, my love,

Always your Ken

A/N: AND THAT’S A WRAP ON ALT ENDING 1! I’m sobbing; how about you? Let’s unpack: I’m already bracing myself for Alt Ending 2. Y’all wanted groveling Gojo and Nanami, so it’s coming. And by ‘coming,’ I mean give me a few days because writing men who actually apologize is harder than exorcising curses. I know Sukuna kind of dominated this fic (pun intended). Confession time: I used to LOATHE Sukuna, but after reading Bloody Inheritance by the legend @@sadistic-kiss, I am now officially a Sukuna apologist. Like, who gave him the right?? If you’re in a Sukuna hangover after this (like me), I HIGHLY recommend it. But please, for the love of cursed energy, read it's trigger warnings first. Okay, I NEED your thoughts on three things: How was the smut? Be honest but gentle—this was my third attempt, and I’m sweating. Did Sukuna as "Daddy Sukuna™" hit as hard for you as it did for me? The hospital floor manager mystery is solved in this chapter. Satisfied? Or do y’all still think I rushed it? 👀 Also, let’s talk about the playlist. What’s your favorite song to cry to while reading this? Asking for research purposes. 👀" P.S. If this chapter emotionally destroyed you, comment so we can cry together. 💔 Let’s make AO3 and Tumblr our group therapy session.

Next Chapter will be out in 2-3 Days.

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz

Taglist Open - If I missed to tag anyone, please remind me.

[bellaiggg]

halloween - scaramouche

contains: degradation, mirrors, little bit of praise,unprotected,rough, hand kink, fingering, masturbation.

(side note!!! this was made in 2020-2021, this is one of my old works from wattpad!! please keep in mind the time difference as well as how scaramouche had no backstory at the time and in this he might be ooc)

MODERN AU

warning: may contain bad spelling, bad grammar, and lower case is intended.

word count - 3064

Y/n POV:

Aw yes, Halloween night, where all the young, popular people host parties and everyone you know goes to them. It's where everyone has an excuse to dress provocatively without getting judged. This year Tartaglia is hosting the party, hopefully his dumbass doesn't fuck anything up. Whatever, Signora told me to trust him.

"y/n! get your ass out of the closet, i wanna see how this costume looks on you!" speaking of provocative outfits, signora is making me wear this bunny girl outfit. she thinks it's a good idea for our little group to match as bunny girls but in different colors. ei isn't here yet, but she's purple, signora is dark red and white, and lastly they gave me black. (a/n: you can choose any color but for the sake of this story i'm going to be writing down black, just imagine yourself in a different color :))

NARARATOR POV:

after hearing her front door ring and her friend call for her, y/n steps out her closet.

"signora can you please get the door for me! it's probably ei."

"yeah sure, also bitch you look so good! just top it off with some jewelry and you'll be perfect!" signora exclaims while walking away.

y/n walks to the mirror, putting on some diamond earrings and she walks over to ei and signora.

"ei! you look so good, your purple eyes really pop in this outfit, and i won't forget about you signora, you look absolutely stunning!"

"thanks y/n, you look so hot! anyways, signora who's even going to the party?"

"oh a lot of people, but mainly people in inazuma! i know for a fact kazuha is going to be there and gorou. since kazuha is there, his bestie tomo is also going to be there. now of course all of the girls are coming like ayaka, yoimiya, kokomi, sara, and your favorite ei, yae miko!"

"oh my archons, ayaka is going to be there? i haven't seen her in forever! but signora, do you know if scaramouche is going to be there?"

"of course y/n, you guys better fuck. i bet 200 mora that you guys will fuck. what are your thoughts ei?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UPPPP, you know how much he gets on my nerves. you guys are killing me with all this teasing. he's literally my biggest enemy."

"uhuh, 'enemy' my ass, you got a thing for him. the tension between you guys is insaneeeee!"

ringgggggg ringgggg ringgggggg

"signora answer your fucking phone!" y/n jokes

"okay, 'hello? oh yes you're here already? yes we are ready. okay we will be out in a few. byeee thank you.' it's tartaglia, he's here to pick us up. scaramouche is also in the car so be on your best behavior y/n"

"he is? what a bitch, whatever lets head out."

*inside the car*

"hey girlies, how are ya?" tartaglia says while rolling down his window.

"fuck you're so weird" scaramouche says under his breath. he's not even paying attention to the people entering the car. he was just dragged here by his friend. he's just on his phone, scrolling through tiktok. he doesn't even want to be seen, he thinks it's idiotic how people gather every year to just party and dress up. since tartaglia didn't want to dress up alone, he made scaramouche dress as ghost face while he is dressing up as a vampire.

"heyy tartaglia, we are doing good! thanks for picking us up by the way!" ei exclaims.

y/n pov:

damn he's hot, he may get on my nerves but that doesn't mean he's not attractive.  he has his mask dangling under his face and he's just scrolling through his phone and he didn't even bat an eye at me.  you know what, who the fuck cares, it's halloween night which means i can finally forget about everything and i get to have fun. the scenery is perfect and everything. it's a dark, chilly night. it's foggy and it's going to storm later, hopefully that doesn't fuck anything up though.

"hey tartaglia, how far are we from your house?" i ask, we have been inside this car for at least 20 minutes and we all have been having our separate conversations. tartaglia is making small talk with scaramouche while signora and ei are talking about how fun this party is going to be.

"damn im that boring? im just playing y/n, we will be at my place in 5 minutes. when we get inside would you like a drink or anything? im sure scaramouche would love to get one for you." ugh this bitch teases me too? i have to stop, i already got my plans straight. tonight im not gonna give 2 fucks, i look hot as fuck and all my friends are with me. why not spice it up a bit and spend some time with scara?

"hmm why not? i would like a drink or two, what about you scaramouche?"

"why the fuck not." wow what a nice response.

                                                ~

"wow tartaglia, you actually did a pretty good job decorating, did anyone help you?" i hear ei ask. i am also surprised, usually signora hosts and plans the parties but the great tartaglia wanted to host the halloween party, saying that he would host the best party of the year or some shit like that.  if he somehow got scaramouche to dress up, i wouldn't be surprised if this was one of the best parties i have ever went to.

"yeah actaully zhongli helped me! anyways make your selves at home, people are starting to arrive. remember, have fun! i don't really give a shit if you guys make a mess."

"thank you ajax, ei why don't you look for yae or sara? i'm sure they are looking for you."

"signora if you tease me one more time, i'm going to kill you! reapectfully though! anyways im going to go to the living room, the music is already blasting, signora do you want to come with me?"

"why of course! have fun y/nnnnnn, and make sure you use protection!" she really walked up to me and whispered that shit in my ear?

"stay safe girls, call me if you need me."

now it's just me and this guy and the atmosphere is getting me excited.  loud music is blasting all through out this house, the halloween decorations are nice, lights flashing every where, and people are already getting drunk.  there is a slight problem though, i'm stuck in the kitchen with scaramouche. yes, i did agree to making drinks with him, but i don't think he's aware of what i'm thinking about right now.  how his hands look while grabbing all the bottles of alcohol, how his mask is just dangling under his chin, and how good his hair looks while it's messy. 

"hey bitch, are you just going to stand there like a helpless little kitty or are you going to help me?" aw, how nice of him.

"oh shut up and lighten up a little, what drink do you want to make?  im good with anything."

"honestly, i don't really want a drink. just pour yourself something, i'm going to the main room." and he's already walking away, whatever i'm just gonna get (f/d) and go to the main room as well.

                                               ~

"HEYY Y/N COME JOINN MEE, DANCE WITH ME MY LOVEEE" god signora is already drunk.

"nah i'm good, i'm probably going to drink my drink then dance with you later, is that fine?" i say rather loudly.

"NOOOOO, NOW!" suddenly i'm on the dance floor now, great.  she really thought it was a good idea to yank my arm to her. it's packed in here, i see ei dancing with yae, and signora is just trying to dance with me. "Y/NNN LOOK AT MEE, OH THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONGGG!" shes so crazy, fuck there's too many people in this room and i'm slowly getting farther and farther away from signora.

i then feel my wrist get pulled by someone from behind me. "i never thought i would see you on the dance floor y/n." oh fuck it's scaramouche.

"well it's just that yae forced me up here, why are you here?"

"i was looking for you because childe wanted me to get you and your friends, it looks like we all have to stay the night because of bad weather. the people with their own rides will be escorted out shortly."

"oh okay thanks for telling me. anyways we should probably get off the dance flo-oh fuck." it's so crowded in here, people or pushing and shoving and because of that i accidentally grinded on scaramouche.

"fuck," he groans lowly. i then feel his hand slowly trail down to my lower stomach while his other arm slowly wraps around me. he then presses me against him and i can feel him move his hips against my ass.

"do that again slut," i continue to sway my hips, i can feel his hard on through his costume.

"attention everybody! there will be severe  weather in about an hour! please get ready to leave! stay safe and thank you for coming to my party!" really tartaglia, you're ruining this shit for me.

"we will continue this later y/n," he then wonders to somewhere. i should get a drink after that, i need to find ei and signora.

                                                ~

im still shaken up about what happened, but he did say he wanted to continue later.  the thing is, i haven't seen him since that incident. most people left and the people who are still here are gathering their stuff and leaving.

"bye y/n! hopefully we can hangout sometime, stay safe!"

"bye itto! you stay safe as well and we definitely have to hangout soon!" and the last person is gone, now i need to find ajax, we need to talk about where we are staying.

*ding*

My shawty ei 😍

y/n, come upstairs! we are all

up here!

                    me

okay! i will be there in a second!

read at 10:30pm

~

"y/nnnn! okay we were just talking about where we are staying and since we are staying at tartaglia's house, he is choosing where we are going to stay,"

"alright, fair enough," i quickly scan the room for the one person i've been waiting to see, mr.scaramouche. i look to my right and there i see him in all his glory, legs spread, and his eyes staring right back at me. i decide to sit next to him and cross my legs, subtly rubbing my leg against his. i can see him stiffen a bit, perfect.

"okay so i will be staying in my room, which is directly under this room, as in its downstairs. i only have three extra rooms which means ei gets her own room and that's in the left hall, signora will be next to ei which will also be in the left hall. lastly, scaramouche and y/n will be in this room, as you may know, we are in the right hall. i will take my leave now, you guys have fun! if you need anything, call me! i'll be in my room! byeeeee ladies and gentlemen."

"uhm tartaglia are you sure you don't have another spare room? because this house is huge, it's perfectly fine if you don't though."

"oh i'm sorry y/n, but i'm afraid that i have no more rooms! anyways, goodnight guys!"

"goodnight, signora lets start heading to our rooms okay?"

"yeahhhhhhh, let's go eiiiii, haha your hair is so purple, it's almost like uhhhh watermelonnn,"

"signora are you sure you didn't smoke anything either? whatever, goodnight y/n, take care!" and there she goes.

*click*

now it's just the two of us, the room is dark and it's pouring outside. lighting is flashing through the window and thunder is heard every other minute.

"i meant what i said, get ready slut," he is so idiotic, he really thinks he can get me that easily. i slowly stand up and get directly in front of him. i put one of my legs up on the sofa and put my finger under his chin.

"scara darling, you really have some nerve, you think you can get me that easily? you're going to have to work a lot harder than that," this is going to be fun.

he then takes my leg and sets it down, then he takes my other leg and sets it down on his other side, so i'm straddling him now.

"don't baby talk me y/n, i will have you screaming my name by the end of the night,"

"oh will you? we will see about that scara, i'm sure i won't feel a thing." as i say that, he starts get a rough grip on my thighs.

"oh go fuck yourself y/n,"

"only if you watch me darling,"

i begin to stare at his lips, they look so good right now. so kissable, but i need him to ache for me. i start to move my hips. back and forth, bath and forth, and i start to feel him get hard. his hand trails down my back, while he starts to smirk right at me.

"do you mean what you said? if so, get on that bed my dirty slut," i slowly get up off him and i start to strip right in front of him. slowly taking off the top part of my costume, which leaves me in my bunny ears, under wear, and knee high socks.

i slowly make my way to the bed, taking my sweet time, making sure he won't be able to hold back.

Narrator POV:

y/n starts to lay down, spreading her legs and takes off her panties. next, she slowly inserts a finger inside of her while directly looking at scaramouche. he moves forward and fixes the position he's in.

"ahh scara, i need you so badlyyy" she slurs lowly.

he starts to clench his jaw, seemingly chewing on nothing. he has hit his breaking point, and he can't take her wide eye stare while she's pleasuring herself. he would much rather if those were his fingers inside of her, his fingers shes sucking on, or even better his dick that is making her sob.

he stands up and walks over to her. he seems to tower over her laying body, his mask is still dangling from his neck, and her blissed out eyes staring right back at his dark blue ones.

he slowly gets on top of her and removes the fingers that were once inside of her.

"y/n i cant wait anymore, you have been leading me on this whole night, fuck can i please put it in?" he asks in desperation.

"mm yes please do,"

with her permission, he quickly strips off every piece of clothing and lines his tip up with her entrance. his dick is dripping with pre cum, and is pink at the tip, waiting for her. he begins rubbing his tip again her aching cunt, teasing her in the process.

slowly, he pushes him self inside of her, and he groans lowly while she lets out a low moan. he wastes no time and instantly starts moving. he starts at a decent pace, letting y/n somewhat adjust to his length.

"mm fuck scara, go faster~" she moans

he seems to get off to her moaning his name, so he continues to quicken his pace.

"you look so fucking good right now, you should really see how good i'm-nghh- making you feel."

he pulls out and carries her to the mirror, right in front of the bed. y/n is now staring at scaramouche hitting it from the back. he then puts himself back in and goes even harder. his hands trail down to her clit and begins to rub it in fast motions.

the sound of rain drops hitting the window is drowned out by moans and skin slapping. the once peaceful halloween night was now turned into something much more than that.

"fuckk look at you, you're such a whore, taking me so well. my fucking whore," his pace starts to get ragged, and he starts to run her swollen clit faster.

tears are already falling out of y/n's eyes, she's barely keeping herself up, her legs shaking from pleasure. he arms are struggling to stay straight, and her ass is red from how hard scaramouche is going.

"ahh fuck, fuck scara you're soo good! i'm soo close~"

"look at you shake, and you said you wouldn't feel a thing right? fuckk bitch,"

their unsteady breaths are in sync, and they are not giving a damn if they rest of their friends could hear them, hell that's the last thing on their mind. his hands are playing with her nipples and rubbing her abused clit, while y/n is moaning scaramouche's name like it's the only thing she knows.

"oh fuck scara, yes!! i'm cumming i'm cumming~"

he groans loudly while pulling out and cumming on her ass, while y/n let her arms give out and is laying on the floor, far too tired to move a muscle.

"heh i never thought i would actually confess to you through sex, i'll take you out on a date next time,"

"love you scara..boyfriend.." y/n cant even make a full sentence without falling asleep, so scara quickly takes care of her and they went to sleep.

~

"good morning love birds, did you guys use protection?" childe greets them.

y/n has one arm wrapped around scara's neck while walking down the stairs, limping in the process.

"fuck, he's trying to say y'all were hella loud," signora complains.

"oh shut the fuck up ajax, y/n i'll get your breakfast." scaramouche replies.

——————————————————————————

thank you so much for reading and i hope u enjoyed!

@Roninewt on twitter (art cred)

[faewrenbird]

I just can’t believe Elden Ring twt is still ripping itself to shreds over whether Miquella is evil and Mohg is good.

I feel like an insane person looking at the source media, then at the fandom, then back at the source media, then back again like “what are you people talking about???”

Source Media: Hello, welcome to a world where everything has been corrupted. In every square meter of this vast open world, you will find the theme of corruption. This is gonna sound crazy, bear with me, but you are called the Tarnished. As in “tarnished gold,” as in “tarnished with impurities.” On this tour, I’ll show you a divine tree that, my god would you look at that, is blackened with impurities. To your right is an entire region that was once beautiful that is literally rotting. To your left you will find the Concept of Life and Death™️ which, wouldn’t you know it, is corrupted. By the way, there are these ancient demigods who have all been so grotesquely distorted by impurities that they’ve become literal monsters that will kill you on sight.

Fandom: ok but that character is actually good tho

Source media: …vibrates thematically

I just don’t get how it’s even a debate 😭 I’m losing my mind. Of course Miquella isn’t good. He’s just as corrupted as quite literally everything else in the entire game, just in his own unique way. That’s the whole tragedy of it, that’s why this genre is DARK fantasy. In context, thinking he could potentially be good is just nonsensical.

BUT in the same vein, nothing is evil either. Corruption means that there was something there to corrupt. It means there was good to begin with. We see traces of that everywhere, too. If not good, then at least “pure” in the naturalistic sense. Which means that Mohg also is not evil.

It’s just. So very. Obviously. Clearly. Gray. We’re not supposed to even question if there’s genuine goodness going on, are we???

[arcane-ish]

This is usually the point where I whip out the

To me they just never felt that sibling coded in s1.

Ep1 and Ep2, I just don't see any sibling coding there at all? And Ep3, the episode that actually goes into defining their relationship starts literally on "old friend" as the first way to describe their relationship.

And then the first long conversation Silco and Vander have about their relationship (never forgiven myself, you had my respect etc) is literally back to back with Viktor and Jayce, them talking about the hextech dream while Vander and Silco talk about the dream of Zaun.

So to me they were always primed as friends/co-workers like Jayce and Viktor.

To me the main scene that really parallels Vi and Jinx is where Vander grabs Silco by the throat and Silco freezes up vis a vis the scene where Vi grabs Powders chin.

And the general arc about "Vi was violent towards Powder and regretted it and Powder became more violent/dark over it".

But nothing about the way Vander and Silco talk to each other rings very sibling like? It's hard to put into words, there is some pettiness there but to me it's just a very different flavor to for example how Jinx and Vi squabble with each other in the mines in season 2. It's just a very different type of intimacy in the way they reference the past that for Vi and Jinx feels like people who grew up together that to me just isn't there for Vander in Silco.

As for the writers and what they were thinking? Imo they thought of Vander and Silco as primarily two fathers. Amanda formulated it like that in season 1 already that the show is deeply about whether the daughters (Vi and Jinx) can escape the cycle of violence that their fathers were caught in.

our goal and overall theme for the series was, we were always asking ‘are these daughters going to repeat the sins of their fathers or not, and how do you stop that?’”

Source

The facts that Vander and Silco aren't the biological fathers or that Silco wasn't a father to Jinx yet when the big confrontation in 1x03 happens doesn't change that they are the fathers symbolically.

And as "they are the dads" I think the "what if the dads got back together again" is just a lot more obvious.

We know that when Fortiche asked the writers said

"they were partners"

Source

My personal theory? I think the writers didn't have strong feelings about Vander and Silco's relationship other than "they knew each other/they had a connection".

If I compare how Christian Linke talks about Viktor, I think he relates more to Viktor and Jayce and hence he has more opinions on them having a platonic connection.

But since they maybe didn't care as much about Silco and Vander, maybe the artists went to them and said "folks, the fact that Vander and Silco made up because Vander wrote Silco a letter is pretty fucking gay, can we make them gay in AU?" and the writers said "yeah, whatever".

(and again the writers likely didn't have a problem with that because they never envisioned them as brothers, just some nebulous partners/revolutionaries)

So like wtf even was zaundads.

I mean from the perspective of the writers room. Because S1 vander and silco were actually genuinely very sibling coded. In a weird uncomfortably homoerotic vibes way, yes, but a proper effort was made in the writing to parallel them strongly with vi and jinx, and they kept calling each other ‘brother’ instead of having it be one line said to a different character (cough jayvik cough).

Then s2 does the brokeback mine jackets thing and it’s like ok sure whatever. Then you get to episode 7 and. They are 1000% a couple. Like they are DADS and clearly wifing each other up HARD. And I would say maybe it’s a case of animators going rogue if it were just stuff like silco running his horny ass fingertip along vander’s bra strap or whatever:

But it’s in the writing too! Having Benzo do the chronic third wheel ‘ugh’ when silco and vander do their gay lil heart eyes toast… that felt LOUD.

Like I really just don’t know what to make of a show that sibling codes two dudes so successfully in s1 that a large chunk of the audience thought they were biological brothers, then does THAT in s2. I mean I love zaundads and I love s2e7!!! But these writers…..

I’m not sure the shippers are the ones who get confused between romantic and brotherly vibes tbh 😅

[delusionalwriter02]

Insta as Nikolai's GF p.2

<3 liked by Yosanurgirl, Golgot and 720 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : he took me on surprise holidays !!!!

Yosanurgirl : that's SO suspicious

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : he's going to murder me

↳ Golgot : WHAT? ME?? NEVER!!!

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : that's exactly what a murderer would say

↳ Golgot : I may have killed a few times but NEVER YOU MY LOVE

↳ Gintonic : just curious how many ?

↳ Golgot : around 80 I think ? maybe 90 or 100 I don't keep count

↳ Daze_i : Fyodorrrrrrr give me your moneyyyyyyy

↳ Fyofyo : Nikolai I hate you with so much passion

↳ Golgot : And what did i do this time ?

↳ Daze_i : we all bet on your kill count, I said you didn't know so I won! I love your incompetence

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : because YOU know your kill count ?

↳ Daze_i : not at all but it's not on mine we bet

↳ Yosanurgirl : not to be mean, actually yes, Fyodor you're no fool, in what world you thought Nikolai knew ?

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : that'll teach you to NOT bet on my boyfriend

↳ Fyofyo : boyfriend ??

↳ Yosanurgirl : your what now

↳ Daze_i : mannnn really

↳ Sig_ma : You took her up there to still be the boyfriend ?

↳ Golgot : SHUT UP I'M GATHERING COURAGE

↳ Yosanurgirl : well you better hurry the fuck up

<3 liked by Gintonic, Chu_uya and 273 others.

Golgot : admire the king and queen

Fyofyo : You talk a lot for someone who lacks courage. Where's the ring ?

↳ Golgot : SHUT UP I HAD TO BLOCK HER SO SHE DONT SEE THE COMMENTS

↳ Sig_ma : I've been hearing about this for WEEKS "bla bla bla how do I ask her to marry me gngngng"

↳ Golgot : calmmmmmm DOWN. Timing is an ART, you basic people can't understand that

Daze_i : @.Chu_uya I bet 7000 yens he never will

↳ Chu_uya : Give the child some time, may be a coward but a funny coward.

↳ Yosanurgirl : Guys stop. Some people like to take their time.... even if it's getting embarassing.

↳ Golgot : So everyone suddenly has a opinion on my private life, how about we talk about your OWN PERSONAL disasters ??

↳ Golgot : HAHA everyone is being real quiet

↳ Gintonic : just ask her to be your wife, let's end the nightmare for everyone

<3 liked by Yosanurgirl, Gintonic and 829 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : OMG GUYS GUYS HE FINALLY PROPOSE

Daze_i : NIKOLAI BOY I'M SO FUCKING ANGRY AT YOU BUT CONGRATS

↳ Chu_uya : Told you to stop betting

↳ Daze_i : yeah but I promise myself to never listen to you

Atsushiii : Congrats you two !!!!!!

Yosanurgirl : FINALLY FINALLY MY GIRL YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED, not my first choice and MY GOD it was long

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you knew ?

↳ Gintonic : girl, EVERYBODY knew, when I say everybody it's EVERYBODY, I even overheard Boss talking about it with Fukuzawa

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : Fuck I'm so blind then

↳ Fyofyo : You are blind and he's an idiot, good duo

↳ Golgot : EH DON'T INSULT MY FIANCE

↳ Golgot : Oh I do love the sound of that word

↳ Golgot : Fiance

↳ Golgot : Fiance

↳ Sig_ma : We get it

Fyofyo : I've never seen a man taking so damn long, 2 MONTHS of you crying because you love her, you better promise to be happy now

↳ Golgot : gngngng are we even friends at this point ??

↳ Fyofyo : If we weren't friends, I would've already kill you for being so annoying

↳ Golgot : aww I love you too

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : excuse me ?

↳ Golgot : I LOVE YOU MORE BABE

<3 liked by Golgot, Fyofyo and 296 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : one day you wake up and realize... you live with a menace for society but you love him, so it's okay

Yosanurgirl : that caption is literally every couple I know

↳ Chu_uya : Dazai is NOT a menace, he's a loser

↳ Gintonic : I'm surrounded by idiots

↳ Higucci : Something to say Chuuya

↳ Yosanurgirl : ...?

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : OH.MY.LORD I KNEW IT

↳ Daze_i : Oooooh Chuuya dearest you really think we're a couple ? Of course we can be if it please you little one, come hug your boyfriend

↳ Chu_uya : BACK OFF I DIDN'T READ CORRECTLY

↳ Daze_i : yeah whatever makes you feel better

Sig_ma : Don't get drunk, last time was a disaster

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : I still believe I've been reasonable

↳ Akutagawa : Getting off the firemen's emergency bar is reasonable for you ?

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : It was FUN

Golgot : I still can't believe we're engaged

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : I can't believe I was blind to the signs

↳ Golgot : Hehe I surprised you love

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : in the greatest way, future husband

Hey! It's been SO long since the last time I posted an Insta as, I hope you liked it !

with love <3

[sunoostripletriple]

The other side of the moon y.jw ff

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅpairing: Enhypen Yang Jungwon x Reader

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅgenre: fluff, a bit suggestive, plot twist?! (maybe)

༊*·˚♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Synopsis:  After a long awaited moment you finally get to see your one and only true love. The person you've been anticipating to see so desperately has finally come to see you.

It's been a while since you finally got the chance to sit down and look at the beautiful night sky. The full moon shining so brightly right at you. 

You feel a sudden rush of sadness, as you reminisce about the dates you've had with your boyfriend, who is now away for an important business trip. 

He’s been on the trip for almost 2 months, and you still have to wait for him to come back for another 5.

Having a boyfriend who is an idol gets you worried, often wondering about what would happen if people were to find out that you guys were together. This thought had you going through so much overthinking ever since you guys got into a relationship. But no matter what, Jungwon always reassures you, saying that his fans are the nicest people he has ever come across, and that even if they find out you're both together no one can split you guys up.

You suddenly remember that Jungwon, your boyfriend recently wrote a new song for their upcoming album and decided to listen to the demos he sent you.

Hundred Broken Hearts

Oh, how you missed his sweet, sweet voice. The more you listened to the song, the more it made you want to desperately run into his arms and give him the sweetest kiss ever, letting him know how badly you have missed him.

Moonstruck

Listening to this song had you blushing from the beginning till the end. You can't help but imagine how far you and Jungwon have gone in this relationship. You can't even lie and say that it has you giggling and blushing like a little girl at some parts of the song.

After listening to the song demos, you couldn't help but send a message to your significant other. 

“I miss you so much, love.”

“Please come back soon.”

You know it's a bit early in the country where he is right now. Even if you message him right now, it would probably take him hours till he can finally reply back to you. However, it seems like fate has other plans for you, and soon your phone starts to ring.

Bzz bzz bzz

The phone continues to ring, making you check to see who is calling you at this late hour.

“It’s Jungwon!” You say. Smiling and answering the phone call from your boyfriend.

Phone call [jungwon]

You: hey babe!

Jungwon: Hey honey bunz. I missed you!

You: why are you up so early? You should sleep more!

Jungwon: I couldn't stop thinking about you all night, I couldn't even sleep a wink. You hear him chuckle on the other side.

You: hey! I can hear laughter, you know. You say pouting. I’m just worried you haven’t got the rest you need, with that hectic  schedule you guys have with that tour. 

Jungwon: Don't worry babe, I’m doing just fine. You know I’m a strong guy so don’t stress about it, okay?

You: Fine.. if you say so.

Jungwon: anyways!! I wanted to call you since I wanna just spend my day off talking to my one and only love and talk about how we met.

You: I was literally just thinking about that too!

Jungwon: Remember that one time at the park? Where we first met?

You: Yeah, and please don’t remind me. I looked so ugly that night. You even had to see my ugly crying face.

Jungwon: Oh please! You looked beautiful! If anything, me seeing you that night was when I first fell for you.

Jungwon: You could say that it could have been ‘love at first sight’

You chuckle at his response.

You: I had mascara running down my face and you’re telling me you fell for me that same night?

Jungwon: Mhmm. He hums. I really did!

You: Stop lying. You protest back. 

Jungwon: Anyways let's move on from that.

You: Actually, I’m thinking of going on a walk to that same park right now. Should I?

Jungwon: Sure! Whatever eases your mind, cutie. 

You: Let me get ready and I’ll call you again when I get to the park.

Jungwon: Alrighty then. Stay safe and make sure to look left and right when crossing. I love you

You: yes mother. I love you too.  You say jokingly as you end the call with Jungwon.

You put your phone down as you walk over your dresser to put on one of the hoodies that was given to you by your boyfriend. “This should keep me warm enough.” you say as you also put a beanie and sneakers on to complete your look.

“I’m so glad the park is only a few blocks away from my place.” you say with relief as you cross the empty street towards the entry of the park. “I should probably call him again.” and not even a few seconds later your call was answered right away.

Phone call [jungwon]

Jungwon: Did you make it safely?

You: Mhmm. You hum softly. I’m by the playground where we always hang around.

You: Wishing you’re right next to me right now.

Jungwon: Just keep wishing then maybe it’ll come true.

You giggle at his silly suggestion and walk over to the swings near the bench you guys first both met. 

You: Maybe I will. You say as you sit yourself on the swing.

Jungwon: Baby.. 

You: Yes?

Jungwon: You know how badly I missed your voice? Your touch? Your kiss? And the way you play with my hair? I missed your everything so badly my love.

You: Me too, love. I miss you so much.

Jungwon: I bet the moon looks just as beautiful as you tonight my love.

Unbeknownst to you, someone, not far from your current location is looking your way and adores how you look at the moon just above you. A sweet and fond smile forms on his lips showing his cute cat-like features.

 You: Saying that while you’re not next to me is just a crime you know. A pout forming on your lips.

A snicker is heard between the trees not far from you causing you to turn your head. You pay no mind to it as you realize you might have just imagined it.

Jungwon: You know each and every word I say is the truth and nothing but the truth. I wouldn’t say something I don’t really mean and you should know that by now. 

You: You win this time, Yang Jungwon.

Jungwon did his best to stay hidden, crouching behind the trees with all the stealth he could muster. He squinted at the lamppost in the distance, watching Y/N pace back and forth as her voice echoed faintly through the phone pressed against his ear.

Everything was going smoothly—well, until the mosquitoes decided to crash his little stakeout.

A couple of them buzzed around his face like tiny, winged nuisances, one especially bold intruder hovering dangerously close to his nose. Jungwon froze, scrunching his face in a valiant effort to hold it back. But the tickle was relentless.

“Achoo!”

The sneeze erupted, louder than he intended, startling even the crickets. He froze, his eyes wide with panic as Y/N’s voice cut off mid-sentence.

“Wait... Was that—” Y/N paused, tilting her head. “Did you just sneeze on the phone? Or… wait, was that from the trees?”

Jungwon mentally facepalmed, realizing his sneeze had betrayed him not once, but twice.

“Uh... bless me?” he mumbled weakly into the phone, but Y/N was already walking toward the lamppost, her curiosity piqued.

“Jungwon?” she called out, stifling a laugh as her eyes scanned the darkened trees.

From his less-than-perfect hiding spot, Jungwon let out a resigned sigh. “Stupid mosquitoes,” he muttered under his breath, preparing to come out before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

“Surprise?!” Jungwon jumps up with both hands mimicking a Peek-a-boo like pose.

You end the call that was still on-going on your phone and wrap your arms around him.

“I missed you so much” You say as you place your hand on his cheeks looking up at him from his chest.

“So much for a cool surprise am i right?” he laughs as he places a soft kiss onto your plum lips. Oh how he missed the touch of your lips right up on his and how long he has waited to finally see you and feel you right up on his arms once again.

“Just as I mentioned earlier. You’re just as beautiful as the moon tonight my love.” he says before continuing on with giving you the most passionate and heart melting kiss you’ve ever had your whole life. The sweet taste of cherry with a mix of strawberry from both yours and Jungwon’s chapstick just couldn’t explain how much you both have been wanting this moment to never stop. A slick of saliva comes out as you both slowly pull away to take a break as you both try to catch your breaths.

“Why are you here?” you ask as you finally realized that your boyfriend who’s supposed to be in America is now back in Korea right in front of you. “Weren’t you supposed to be in America right now with the boys?” you continue to ask.

“I lied and told them I’m homesick and that I’ll join them again in 2 weeks” He chuckled knowing how you’ll probably make this into a big deal.

“What do you mean join them again?? You guys are on a tour, Jungwon wouldn’t you get in trouble when they find out you only came back to see me?” You say as you bombard him with a series of questions not even letting him interrupt you.

“What are you saying, y/n? You are home. You’re my home.” he says as he pulls you by the waist for another hug whilst giving you a small peck on your temples.

You blush at his actions and just lay on his chest as you comfortably feel the beat of his heart slowly rising. The sound of his comforting humming sounds just like a lullaby and you can never explain how much warmth it gives. You slowly lose consciousness as you lay next to your lovely boyfriend knowing nothing is ever going to separate the two of you till the end of the world. 

“Wake up! Wake Up!!” you feel a weak push on your side. Not wanting to wake up, you turn around and ignore whoever is trying to wake you up.

“I said wake up! Wake up, alweady!” the small figure next to your sleeping body grows frustrated as you show no signs of wanting to wake up.

“If you don’t wake up right now, I’m going to tattle on daddy.” the little girl sulks both rosy cheeks puffing out in annoyance.

Just from the word ‘daddy’ got you opening both eyes wide open in shock. “Daddy?” you repeat. “Yeah, Wonnie papa.” the little girl says.

“Daddy said I should wake you up since we're going on a twip today!” the girls exclaim in excitement. 

“Ahh is that what daddy said Yeonie?” you ask your daughter.

“Yup!! I hope we’re going to lotte world today! I’m so excited mommy!” little Yeonie says as she jumps on the mattress. “Well you should get ready then so we can head out soon, alrighty sweety?” you give Yeonie a kiss as you lead her back to her room.

You sigh as you realize the dream was all just a flashback from 3 years ago. The same occurrence happens once every full moon. It's like a little recall on the most heartfelt moment you’ve ever had in your whole life.

“Honey, are you in there?” you hear a familiar voice and a knock on the bedroom door. You open the door not to only see your husband but also your first and last love. Yang Jungwon.

༊*·˚♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

a/n: sorry for not being able to post for awhile pooks. If I'm being honest I did unfortunately lose the motivation to write for awhile and due to my work schedule i haven't been able to do much on this app;-;;;. I've also had this ff in my drafts for awhile now and haven't been able to finish writing it until now so I hope you guys will love this one.

taglist: @velvetkisscs @random-potat @yoizhrs

[ramshacklefey]

Oh! I know this one!! (Lots of preamble exposition here, maybe not helpful if you already know it, but here for other people)

Ok so. The ability to do magic in LOTR is basically the ability to force your will onto the rest of the universe. You want a fire here? Tell the laws of physics to sit down and shut up there's a fire here now. People have different amounts of willpower in this regard based on how close they are in lineage to the Valar, who are the personal first children of the creator deity and helped build the world through song. Gandalf and the other wizards are Maiar, the personal servants of the Valar. The oldest of the elves once lived in Valinor and were created by the Valar as their children, they were close to the light of the Trees and that brought them great force of will. The only elves we ever meet who lived in Valinor are Galadriel and Celeborn.

But elves in general, descended as they are from these origins, have a deeper and closer relationship to the Valar than other species. Humans and dwarves never lived in Valinor. (Not all the elves did either, it was a whole thing, but the Mirkwood elves had never been to Valinor and so were less powerful than the others. This is why Legolas is a relatively low-power elf, though still more powerful than most humans.)

There was, however, a nation of humans, the Numenoreans, who lived on an island halfway between Middle Earth and Valinor. Because of this, they had as much power as humans are capable of. After Numenor sank into the sea, they founded Gondor, and that is why the line of kings of Gondor is so powerful. They are directly descended from the original Numenoreans. Each generation after that first, however, had slightly less of that power, and because human lifespans are short (and grew shorter as they decreased in power), there are many more generations of humans between Numenor and the third age than there are of elves. Though the elves have seen a diminishing of this as well, it's much slighter. This is why Elrond has much less power than Galadriel.

Many many generations of humans ago, but only a couple generations of elves, the elven princess Luthien fell in love with a human, Beren. Because Beren was part of the line of Gondorian kings, this gave a sort of power boost to their children and thus to the line of kings after them. This is why Aragorn is so much more powerful than other humans: he's a direct descendant of an elven princess.

Alright so. Magical objects. Magical objects come in two sorts: those made of a substance with special properties or inscribed with words of power (the Lothlorien cloaks, the Earendil glass that Frodo has, the Mithril coat) and those made by the creator placing some of their own will into the object (the palantir are one example. The Silmarils are another, although Fëanor also captured the light of the trees in them which added to their power).

All the Rings are the second type. Celebrimbor was the one who developed the method for making them. He was the grandson of Fëanor and so had a fuckton of power and will to use for that.

Sauron was a Maiar, like Gandalf and the other wizards. He had been Morgoth's second in command and apprentice, but after Morgoth fell (he was a Valar btw), Sauron claimed to be reformed and became an apprentice of Celebrimbor. He learned the secret of creating the Rings, and had a hand in shaping the Seven and Nine, and he put small pieces of himself into them. The Three elven rings were made after Celebrimbor realized that Sauron was up to shady shit, and so he never had anything to do with them.

Then Sauron made the One Ring, and he poured a TON of himself into it.

But the way these kinds of objects work, anyone can use them if they have sufficient willpower to channel what's already in the object. But there's a catch. Because the source of the object is literally someone else's willpower, the object is always primarily subject to the creator's will. It's literally a part of them, will act in ways that person would want, and responds to commands from them even if someone else is trying to use it.

This is why the people keeping the elven rings (Gandalf, Galadriel, and Cirdan) have to be so powerful themselves. Even though these rings aren't evil, they have a limited level of desire for certain things and would actually eventually take over the mind of someone less powerful. Also they were trying to keep Sauron from finding them. (Aside, this is why the One Ring has no effect on Tom Bombadil. Whatever he is, he natively has more will than what Sauron put into the ring.)

So. If you have the One Ring, whoever you are, you can channel a level of Sauron's will commensurate to your own. Gollum never could use it for anything but turning invisible. Frodo could do hardly anything deliberate with it. But if Gandalf or Galadriel had it, they could fuck shit up. If Aragorn had it he would be terrifying. Even Faramir could have gotten a big power boost from it. And because it's part of Sauron, who craved dominion over others, it wants you to use it to dominate others, and it will tell you that you can, and that it will help you shape the world into something you want.

But here's the catch: it's a fucking liar, just like Sauron. Sure you'll be powerful if you have it, but it's got his will in it, and the more you do what it wants, the more control it gets over your mind. In fact, it's so powerful in that way that just being around it can get to you. That's what happened to Boromir. That's why Gandalf, Galadriel, and Aragorn know they absolutely cannot touch it or even try to keep it safe. They know, or fear, that they would eventually give in and try to use it for good, but it would corrupt them too. Faramir knows what it is, and he rejects the whole idea of having that much power. Sam recognizes it for a liar, and rejects the power it offers him.

(Sauron was also massively weakened when he lost it because once you put that much of yourself into something, you can't get it back out.)

Tolkien, who lived through both world wars, saw a lot of what happens when people are given too much power and influence over others. He was also a devout Catholic, and there's a lot there and in the wider mythos about the dangers of seeking power because at some point you're setting yourself up as a false god, but the prime false god in the Catholic mythos is Satan. And Satan will offer worldly power to people in order to gain control of them.

....does that answer your question?

I know I’m a super normie though because I still don’t… understand… how exactly you wield the One Ring as a weapon. Like what did Boromir and Denethor etc. expect to do with it besides turn invisible and get soul-corrupted by Sauron

[sieglinde-freud]

do you think intelligent systems remembers that they gave eirika a character outside of her brother or did we just make that up in our heads because they dont seem to want us to remember that

[dykedvonte]

Its really interesting that Jimmy’s chair is the one tilted away from the screen in this shot:

It’s indicative of how his and Jimmy’s dynamic was. He’s not staring ahead at the screen, he’s not paying attention to what they are doing. Curly is the only one looking forward. Jimmy quite literally couldn’t see the responsibility Curly had or was doing. Jimmy likely slacked off and avoided most of his duties. I mean the one time we know he pilots the Tulpar he steers it wrong and loses the team 4000 credits. Even in the positions they held objectively, Curly was always taking responsibility for Jimmy. Not to mention the “We can fix this” and only one chair at attention. Jimmy never had intentions to fix anything, throughout the game, throughout his entire relationship with Curly. Curly always fixed it? Why would it be any different here?

If he even took the slightest bit of responsibility, he would’ve stayed in the cockpit to see his plan through. In the end Curly did what Jimmy always expected him to do for him and took responsibility. Did what he always did and took responsibility at the wrong time…

[piratebluebeard]

now guys.... what does this fat ass rock on ed's bloody ass finger have to do with anything....

[moongothic]

Honestly I think crocodile/dragon and crocodile/Doflamingo are only interesting when treated as failed relationships spinning off into increasingly petty grudges and instigations. Become a warlord to piss off one ex by working with his hated father only for the OTHER ex to ALSO become a warlord to drive you insane. Etc.

I am now going to take his as an opportunity to rant about Dragodile because I unironically think it's an interesting ship if Crocodad Real and I don't think I'm ever going to find a better excuse to rant about it unprompted lmao SO HERE WE GO

But yes like. Dragodile is so fucking interesting to me

A marine and a pirate falling in love with each other is already some starcrossed lovers kinda BS. But then it's like, a FORMER marine and pirate who is WORKING FOR THE GOVERNMENT. That's EXTRA JUICY, it adds layers to the starcrossed lovers shit, and I am not immune to it, it's FACINATING, like what was the dynamic here

But also we don't even know when Dragon left the marines and when he and Crocodile first met, so for all we know it could've been some real enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies shit AND THAT'S SO INTERESTING

(Also the mere concept that Dragon could've been chasing Crocodile around kinda like Smoker tried to chase Luffy, only for Crocodile to become a Shichibukai and Dragon having to give up because they're on the same side now (kinda). Like. That is so fucking funny. And then he leaves the Marines to start a revolution. Or just out of spite dshgjdgs)

Then there's the absolutely hysterical part where Crocodile is the meanest, most intimidating, standoff-ish asshole around. So the idea Dragon was fucking into that is INCREDIBLE. THIS MAN LIKES BEING BULLIED DFSHFKGHFGJHDS (It's possible Young Croc might've been less mean but it's funnier if he wasn't)

And yeah. Somehow. In complete secret. A romance blooms.

And then there's a baby.

And Crocodile transes his gender.

And there's a divorce.

And 17 years later Crocodile has commited dozens of unforgivable warcrimes that are almost exactly the kind of things Dragon wanted to stop the government from doing to begin with.

Mind you, I don't actually think there's coming back from that, this relationship was burned to the ground and the ashes blown away by wind, there is nothing left

But could you imagine if despite the anger and the hurt and the warcrimes they still somehow loved each other

I would just

[bmpmp3]

im curious to see how we'll see how we feel about takehiro and the others' new designs when they're fully revealed but it did get me thinking about how i would design his outfit. unfortunately i realized very quickly that i would just put him in my own fashion style: department-store-clearance-core